Her Greatest Downfall
by Can'tStopImagining
Summary: Nicky Nichols should know better than to fall for a straight girl. Nicky/Lorna.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Wow so this has been a bit of a roller coaster to write. I don't want to give too much away so I'm not going to say too much, but I was given this prompt maybe a week ago? And it just wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote something ridiculous and long about it. I don't really know how to explain this except that it's an AU, but in the same setting, just with slight differences (you'll see when you get to them). I had intended for this to be like 2000 words at most, but as you can see, it escalated. Thoughts are, as always, most welcome. Thanks for reading.

* * *

The first time she sees her, she's wandering through the food hall, clutching a tray so tight her knuckles are white, and she's practically swimming in her orange uniform which is at least two sizes too big, with the bottoms rolled up. Her hair is too neat, and her lips too red, but there's something about her that causes Nicky to stare, her eyes refusing to pull away. In a moment of weakness, Nicky calls after her and gestures for the seat opposite. For once, she's glad she's eating alone, because she sees her friends – her _family, _better said – in the lunch queue and she can practically hear Boo's thoughts from halfway across the room.

"I was convinced I'd be eatin' alone today. First day and all. Real nice of you, real nice," she sinks into the seat and Nicky's so captivated by the huskiness of her voice, the mixed accent, the way she pronounces each word like it's something beautiful, that she almost forgets to reply.

"Don't mention it, kid," she's aware that her voice is unusually thick, and clears her throat, silently scolding herself for being polite, not funny. After all, her sense of humour is one of the only things going for her lately. She's glad the others aren't here because Boo is already making sexual gestures from the lunch line, and she'd probably be laughing for the rest of the day if she heard Nicky stumbling over words in front of a pretty girl.

"I'm Lorna... no, no... Morello," the girl smiles awkwardly, holding her hand out for Nicky to shake, and dropping it when she doesn't, "the whole, uh, last names thing is gonna take a while to get used to."

"Nichols. Nicky," she points her fork in Big Boo's direction, "and take some advice, Morello, don't go anywhere near that. She smells newbie from a mile-off, and she's currently on the look out for a new Mrs Boo, if you catch my drift."

Morello glances over her shoulder, and when she turns back she has frightened, wild eyes, which just continue to widen when Boo slides into the seat beside her, pushing her tray intentionally into hers. She has a dirty grin plastered on her face, and Nicky's trying to send her 'don't touch her' vibes from across the table, but, not for the first time, Boo is ignoring her.

She tends to group girls into categories: those she would fuck in a heartbeat; those who she goes after just for the hunt; those who are easy for a pick-me-up, and those she wouldn't go near if you paid her. This new girl doesn't fit neatly into any of these boxes, and this perplexes her. She almost feels like Lorna Morello is going to need a whole category of her own.

Especially, when she finds out that the girl's got a fucking _fiancé _waiting for her on the outside.

Still, Nicky isn't the first to try and get into a straight girl's pants, and she never says no to a challenge, so she can't help but continue to pursue it, even if she is convinced it's going to lead nowhere. She tries to tell herself it's because Morello's hot, because she can't stop watching her perky little ass when it walks out of the room, wants to know what Morello screaming her name in that goddamn accent of hers would sound like. And yeah, it is all those things, but it's also a whole load more. Things Nicky won't even admit to herself, let alone anyone else.

So they spend a lot of time together, and it's kinda nice. It's not even like she spends the whole time thinking about fucking her. There's an innocence that makes Lorna so much more genuine than anyone else Nicky knows. The fact she spends time with her out of _choice_ sets her aside from just about everyone else in Litchfield, and it makes Nicky feel oddly warm inside. Time with Lorna is easy. They laugh at each other's jokes, and they talk for hours, and sometimes they just sit in silence doing their own thing, but it's comfortable. Nicky feels like she is the most herself she's been in a long time when she's with her. She can even put up with the girl's nonstop talking about _Christ-a-fuh_ if it means getting to see that radiant little smile of hers, the way her pale cheeks flush pink.

Everyone else sees it – Boo calls it 'the downfall of the great Nicky Nichols' – but if Lorna notices that there's anything more than friendship going on, she doesn't say anything. Nicky's pretty sure she's oblivious, that she doesn't see much beyond her stack of wedding magazines, and that's fine by her.

Or not.

"Can I ask ya a question?"

Nicky's lying upside down off the end of her bed, looking at pictures in a book she's pretending to read, and Morello's voice almost catches her by surprise. She's been so ensconced in her wedding plans that they've been sitting in silence for almost an hour.

"So long as it's not 'which of these dresses will I look most virginal for my wedding day in', sure, go ahead, kid."

She glances at Lorna and the girl's cheeks are a deep pink, and she immediately regrets being so cruel with her choice of words. She can't quite stop the bitterness in her voice when she talks about the damn wedding, but she's trying.

"Nevermind."

Nicky exhales hard, letting the hair in front of her face flap about before she scoops it back and sits upright, "c'mon. I was just kidding. What is it?"

"Do you only hang out with me cos you're hoping to fuck me?' she finally says, and the sincerity of it, the sobriety in her voice, the way she says _fuck_ like it's the most beautiful, poignant word in the English language, knocks Nicky breathless for a second.

"Wow, Morello, you don't mess around, do you?" she says, running her fingers through her hair, and she thinks that there's a good chance she doesn't even need to answer that question, that her lack of an answer is all the confirmation Lorna needs, but she goes ahead anyway, "I'd be lying if I said the thought hadn't crossed my mind."

Her throat's dry and she's usually at her most comfortable flirting with hot girls, but Lorna Morello isn't just a hot girl, and that's becoming more and more clear to her. She stares intently at the girl, and her pulse is racing just a little, and this is the adrenaline she usually thrives on, but not today.

"So you're just my friend cos you wanna get in my pants?"

Nicky is quick to extinguish that thought with a hurried, "no, no," but Morello doesn't look convinced. She reaches out to brush a strand of hair out of Lorna's eyes, and she knows it's a risk, but it's one she's willing to take. Lorna doesn't flinch, doesn't move away, just continues to look at her with those stupidly beautiful dark doe eyes of hers.

"You're something special, you know that?" Nicky says softly.

"It ain't gonna work," but even her voice wavers, and Nicky knows she should stop, knows that she's potentially wrecking one of the only real friendships she has in this place, but Lorna's skin is so soft under her finger tips that she can't help but continue. She brushes her thumb across pale, milky skin, and Lorna visibly swallows, their faces so close together that Nicky can count every freckle on her face, feel her short, shallow breaths on her skin.

"Really special," Nicky repeats, and Lorna's eyes drift closed, and she's moving closer, into Nicky's touch.

"Don't," she whispers, "please, don't... kiss me... do whatever you want, just please don't kiss me."

It's a strange plea, but with Christopher still on the table (literally; his damn wedding plans are stretched out all over the fucking place), Nicky kind of understands, and she does as she's told, taking Lorna's hand and leading her towards the only place she knows is safe for this kinda thing: the chapel.

She starts out gentle, but it soon becomes clear to her that that isn't the kind of girl Lorna is, no matter what appearances tell her, and she's soon squeezing and biting and tugging clothes off as fast as she can, delving her fingers so deep into the woman who she's lusted over for weeks that Lorna lets out a low gasp, her grip on Nicky tightening so hard that she's leaving little half-moons in Nicky's back with her fingernails.

So that's how it starts. And it continues. Nicky knows all about addiction, and she knows she's found a new drug, and that just like before, this one's going to be difficult to quit. Fortunately, Lorna seems just as committed to the cause. It's not like Nicky to keep one girl, but there's something about Lorna, about the way she cries her name, the way her teeth feel along Nicky's skin, the buzz of her fingers in all the right places – she doesn't go looking for someone else, because she knows no one else could even compare.

They do it everywhere. It's not like they're keeping it a secret. Wherever they can do it without getting caught by C/Os is fair game, and with each new place comes a new thrill. Nicky wouldn't even mind getting caught; anything to keep the adrenaline pounding through her body, but she knows it's not the same for Lorna. She might be happy to keep their relationship (fuck buddies, nothing more; she's made it quite clear) out on the open, but she won't talk about it, won't address it. It's still Christopher this and Christopher that, and Nicky thinks she would mind that, if it weren't that she knows as soon as they're alone, it's her name on Lorna's lips, not his.

They always wind up back in the chapel. Sex-aside, it's Nicky's favorite place, the only place in the damn prison where she can get some peace and quiet, but she's more than happy to have that silence broken by Lorna's moans, her name being groaned over and over again in the dark. They can take more time, be more thorough in the chapel. It's always such a damn rush everywhere else.

Collapsing in a pile of sweaty limbs and discarded clothes, Nicky closes her eyes, peels her damp hair off her forehead, "shit, Morello, you sure you weren't a lesbian in a past life? That tongue of yours could turn Mother fucking Theresa."

Lorna starts to laugh, and at first Nicky joins her, but then it becomes more and more clear that whatever she's laughing at is a private joke, not what Nicky said at all.

"Hey, you care to share what's so fucking funny?" she asks, but she's still grinning, her body still pulsating, her breath still heavy.

"I'm pregnant," Lorna says, and she's still chuckling away to herself.

"Well, shit," Nicky replies, laughing along, "I knew I had magic fingers, but this brings it to a whole other level."

"No," she closes the gap between them, suddenly too serious, and lays her hand over Nicky's, "I'm really pregnant."

It takes a second for the words to sink in, and then all of a sudden Nicky's reeling. Not because she's fucked a pregnant woman, because, in all honesty that's not exactly something she wouldn't do, but because, _shit, Lorna's pregnant,_ and she's _falling in love_ with a _pregnant _straight girl.

"Shit, kid, why didn't you tell me?!"

"I read that in your first... trimester you're not supposed to tell anyone. Y'know, just in case something happens to the baby," she shrugs nonchalantly, like she's telling Nicky what's on the lunch menu for tomorrow, or recalling a television show, and it's driving Nicky nuts.

"What about what we've been doing?!"

"Nooo, Nicky, it's completely safe. I checked," she beams, squeezing Nicky's hand, and a moment later she's climbing to her feet, slipping her clothes back on, and chattering away about her wedding plans like nothing's happened.

* * *

Now that the information has processed, a lot of things start to make sense. Lorna barely touches her food, won't shower with other girls around, and when the morning sickness is really bad, she looks like she's permanently got the flu. She doesn't broadcast her little secret to the rest of the prison (the C/Os know, and now that Nicky knows, it's so damn obvious that they know), and Nicky can't help but feel oddly satisfied, though she hates herself for it. It's Nicky who holds Lorna's hair back whilst she deposits half her breakfast into the toilet every morning, and it's Nicky who curls up in her bunk with her when she's tired and just wants to sleep in the comfort of someone else's arms.

(She ignores the mumbled 'Christopher's when Lorna's sleeping, but her heart's breaking a little more every day).

She tells Red because honestly she _has_ to tell Red, and she isn't even remotely surprised when the older woman laughs in her face. Red organises for Lorna to work in the kitchen a while. It's the safest place for a pregnant girl, she insists, promises Nicky that when the time comes, Lorna will have everything she needs. Most of all, she promises not to tell a soul, and Nicky knows her well enough to believe it.

Eventually, Lorna starts to show. She's wearing baggier khakis, and her face is fuller. She still doesn't tell anyone, but rumours are flying around and it's only a matter of time. They stopped fucking weeks ago, but Nicky's still glued to her side, and people are still talking, and she's still wishing there was something she could do to erase this whole mess.

The worst part is that to Lorna it _isn't_ a mess, and Nicky can't understand why. Christopher, as much as Lorna likes to sing his praises, hasn't been to visit. Not even once. Nicky's sent Tricia to spy for her every damn time it's visiting hours. Besides a dark haired lady that is probably her sister, Lorna hasn't had any visitors at all. Certainly not any guys. Nicky doesn't mention it to her, because it's none of her business, and she doesn't feel like being malicious, but she's so close to snapping. She's never been the kind of person who likes to deal with problems by talking them through, never likes conversations to go too deep, but _fuck_ there's some things that just _need_ talking about, and she doesn't understand how Lorna can stand to not even address them.

* * *

They're playing cards in the rec room, and Lorna suddenly wants ice cream, and of course Nicky straight away heads off to the kitchen to find Red. They've come to an agreement. Lorna gets cravings, Nicky goes to Red, Red hands them over for nothing. 'I haven't gone soft' Red affirms, and Nicky nods with a 'me either, ma', but they both know that's not entirely true when it comes to Lorna, and it goes without saying that she'll be back again.

When she arrives back at the table they'd been sitting at, Lorna's nowhere in sight, and Tricia shrugs, mutters something about a visit, and Nicky can't believe her ears.

"I told you to check on her visits, and I come back and find you here on your ass."

But it isn't Tricia she's mad at, its herself for leaving, and she hurries off in the direction of the visitation room, arriving in time to see Lorna sit down opposite a man in a sweater and slacks, who she can only assume is Christopher. _So the bastard finally decided to visit,_ she thinks, and her heart sinks because whadya know, he's real, and as soon as Lorna gets out of this dump, she'll be back with him, baby and all. Nicky turns away from the glass and goes back to her cube, not feeling like playing voyeur on a game of happy families.

It's not that she ignores her for the next few days. It's merely a coincidence that she sits the other end of the table in the lunch hall, that she finds things to do during free time that don't involve Lorna, that she finds someone else to share headphones with at movie night. She knows it's not fair to take her own unhappiness out on Lorna. She knew (mostly) what she was getting into when she started, but she just couldn't let Lorna slip through the cracks, and that says it all about her personality, about her lack of the ability to say no to things that are bad for her.

So, she starts sleeping around again. People talk, and she lets them. She pieces her friendship with Lorna back together, barely, but things never go back to how they were, and she pretends she doesn't feel like part of her is missing, pretends to ignore the void that used to be filled by the sound of Lorna's laughter, the feel of her cuddled close as she slept. She feels more like herself. The emptiness has been a part of her for so long, feels so familiar, that it's easy to sink back into it.

She's distracted by new inmates; Piper Chapman and all the drama she brings with her, Alex Vause who looks like she's stepped straight out of a librarian porno, and fucks like she has, too. It feels good to have a distraction, to be more Nicky Nichols, period, and less Nicky Nichols, Lorna Morello's best friend.

Lorna gets bigger, and she stops talking about the wedding, and starts going on and on about babies, and baby names, and nursery colors, and if Nicky hated all the wedding talk, then she _despises_ the baby talk, so she avoids her. She hangs out with Chapman, plays around with Vause, looks after Tricia. Anything to take her mind off Lorna. Anything to keep her occupied. Red lets her help in the kitchen time to time, and Nicky can't even peel a fucking potato, but she's happier there than she is sharing the TV room with Lorna.

Then, Tricia dies, and all the strength is sucked out of her. Her throat is dry all the time, and she doesn't have any one-liners to shoot back at anyone, and she finds herself alone in her bunk all day every day. She doesn't have the energy to spend time with anyone else. Meal times are spent pushing food around her plate and avoiding conversation. Everyone's stopped trying to break through the wall she's built around herself, but Lorna's still there, day in day out, sitting quietly with her tray, waiting for Nicky to open up.

She arrives at the table, and Nicky picks her tray up and leaves.

A few days later, Lorna has a fall in the shower, and Nicky mentally slaps herself around the face for being so caught up in her own drama, for caring so much about protecting her own heart, that she's left the one person she cares most about in the world vulnerable. Taystee comes running to tell her there's been an accident, and all the blood rushes to Nicky's head. She feels sick. _Not her too. Please not her too. _It's just a fall, Taystee insists, but Nicky's already sprinting to the infirmary, her heart in her throat, her stomach twisted in knots, and when she sees Lorna being carried in on a stretcher, she can't help but immediately think the worst. She has blood spilling down her face,, matted in her wet hair, and she's so pale, so fragile looking. She keeps asking about the baby, and the C/Os are telling Nicky to back off, but it's all white noise as far as she's concerned. She takes Lorna's hand, and she won't let go, and they eventually don't make her because _fuck_ hasn't she been through enough this month?

Lorna's bandaged up and sent back to her bunk.

The baby's fine. Lorna's fine. She's given a blood pressure stabiliser in the pill line every day, and told she needs to eat better, but she's fine.

Nicky's been so wrapped up in wallowing in her own self-pity that she's been oblivious to the sadness in Lorna's eyes. She isn't the same sparky, cheerful kid she was when she arrived. In front of everyone else, maybe, but when they're alone, she's quiet and withdrawn and barely even mentions the baby, much less the wedding. Nicky refuses to leave her side. She realises she's been selfish, that all this time she's made the whole thing about her, about them, when really it's about Lorna. It's about protecting Lorna Morello at all costs. Even if that cost is that one day she'll leave, and get married, and raise a baby with a man who she loves, and Nicky will never be more than a memory at the end of it all. She still has to get there. She still needs to be looked after up until that point.

_I'm all you've got in here, and you'd best believe I'm going to look after you, kid._

Christopher visits, and Nicky waits five minutes before following Lorna to the visitation room. She tells herself it's because she wants to give her support, to prove to herself that she's grown up, over it, can deal with seeing the man in the flesh. But she knows that deep down a part of her is only going to make sure he's the real deal. To make sure he's good enough for her.

She tries not to resent the way Lorna's face lights up when she sees him. Lorna's reached the point where she's practically waddling, and she looks like a beautiful khaki duck with pink cheeks as she sinks into the seat opposite Christopher. They don't hug, but she reaches for his hands, and the smile on her face is the widest Nicky's ever seen it.

So, she doesn't understand when the fight breaks out.

It's like watching a film backwards, or starting a book halfway through. One minute Lorna's all smiles, stroking Christopher's hair, beaming at him with bright, rosy cheeks. The next, she's across the table, and there's shouting, and C/O's are grappling to tug him away from her. He leaves fingermarks around her throat, and she's wailing, sobbing, and Nicky wants to break the glass down between them, give the asshole a taste of his own medicine, but she's frozen still. Her pulse is ringing in her ears. She doesn't understand what just happened, what she's been watching. It's like a bad dream. And to top it all off, Lorna notices her, spots her from across the room, offers a tiny, broken smile, and runs off in the other direction.

Nicky intersects her at a quiet stairwell. Lorna's a mess, sobbing her heart out, her head in her hands, and Nicky sits down next to her, wraps an arm around her, pulls her head onto her shoulder. They don't talk. Nicky has so many questions she wants to ask, but she doesn't because she's invaded Lorna's privacy enough for one day. And, honestly, she doesn't know where to start. She can't make head or tail of what she's just witnessed.

"I'm crazy. I am a crazy person," Lorna says softly, wiping her face. Nicky rubs her back, presses a kiss to the top of her head, and Lorna's still shaking, still crying, hiccuping through her words. She looks like she's going to crumble any moment.

"No, that guy's crazy. What he did in there... _that_ was crazy, y'hear me?"

She laughs, a hollow empty sound, and shakes her head, "you don't get it."

"You're carrying his kid, and he just tried to strangle you... you could have just died... I get that much," she frowns, cups Lorna's face, brushes away her tears, tries to meet her eyes, but Lorna pulls away.

"It isn't his..." she whispers, looking away, "the baby. It isn't his. I... I don't even... we're not engaged," she puts her face in her hands, and she's crying again, and none of it makes sense but Nicky doesn't want to push. She rubs her back, holds her close, waits for her to continue. _You can trust me, _she thinks, hoping that Lorna knows without it needing to be said aloud.

When Lorna explains, it all comes out in shreds of information, and Nicky knows that she should be angry, that she should feel like Lorna's lied to her, that she should want to be as far away from her as possible. But she doesn't. She doesn't feel any of those things, and she just wraps Lorna tighter in her arms, pulls her closer, kisses her head, tries to soothe her whilst her mind processes all the information, tries to find an explanation for it.

"I'm crazy," Lorna says again, her voice wavering.

"Hey... You're a beautiful, sweet girl. Yes, it's becoming more and more clear that you're also batshit crazy, but... aren't we all?" she laughs a little, brushes Lorna's hair out of her eyes, "I wanna take care of you, y'know?"

Lorna stares at her, "you mean you don't hate me?"

"Kid, I could never hate you," she presses another gentle kiss to Lorna's forehead, and they stay there, still and close and silent for another ten minutes before Lorna decides to head back to her bunk, and begs Nicky to go with her.

It's a few days later that Nicky plucks up the courage to ask her. She doesn't want to push, doesn't want to hurt Lorna anymore than she's already been hurt, but she needs to understand. There's only a matter of weeks standing between now and when the baby's born, and then everything's going to change. She's seen how losing a baby to the outside world fucks a girl up in this place, and Lorna's vulnerable enough already, might not even make it through to the other side, and the thought terrifies Nicky.

"Whose is it?" she asks, quietly, when Lorna's snuggled into her side and almost drifting off, one hand on her baby bump, the other twisted in Nicky's sweater. She doesn't open her eyes, doesn't move, and for a moment Nicky thinks she must have dropped off to sleep already.

"I... don't know," she finally stammers, "everythin' gets pretty hazy in my head, y'know?"

Nicky doesn't push it any further, doesn't mention it again. She lets Lorna sleep. She trusts her when she says that her sister will take care of the baby when it's born, that everything is in place without her interfering. Not that she'd really be able to do anything even if it wasn't. She might act like the big guy, act like she can take care of all of Lorna's problems in the blink of an eye, but that's on the inside. Outside, she has nothing and no one, and if anything, she's jealous that Lorna doesn't.

Then she remembers that in a few weeks time, the most important thing in Lorna's life will be on the outside, and she feels guilty all over again.

* * *

"I decided on a name. Maria. Y'know, like in West Side Story?"

They've taken up knitting in the hopes that between them they might make something for the baby, but they aren't allowed proper needles, and even if they were, they've mostly just made a mess. Nicky's is neater than Lorna's, but that's not really saying much. She's trying to unpick a giant knot of pink wool that's manifested in Lorna's not-really-a-blanket-but-kind-of-a-blanket, but it's a lost cause.

"Maria Morello? How bullied do you want this kid to be?" she says, looking up from the mess in front of her.

Lorna scoffs, "you can talk, Nicole Nichols."

"Well exactly. I know it first hand and no kid should be put through that."

"Her last name doesn't have to be Morello..." Lorna says wistfully and Nicky's chest tightens. She puts down the knitting, touches Lorna's hand across the table.

"Kid, you know you can't give her Christopher's name, right?" she says as gently as she can.

Lorna's smile falters just for a second, and she shakes her head, threading her fingers through Nicky's, "no, no, I know. I've been thinking though... how does Maria Nicole sound?"

* * *

The date gets closer and closer and Lorna becomes quieter and quieter. It's hardly surprising, Nicky thinks. It's difficult to be excited about a baby being born when you know you're only going to get to hold her for ten minutes before she's whisked away. She's putting on a brave face in front of their friends, but as soon as she and Nicky are alone, she breaks down. Nicky can't help but feel privileged to get to see this other side of her that no one else does, even if it is breaking her heart. She's not so good with words, but she tries to help, tries to comfort Lorna, even if it's with the way she strokes her face or whispers into her hair, or ghosts a kiss across her skin. It's the most tender she's been with anyone, and she knows Boo's talking about her losing her touch, that she hasn't been laid in months, but it's not a joke anymore. She gets that not everyone understands that, that not everyone can see her and Lorna's relationship for what it is, and that doesn't matter. All that matters is keeping Lorna safe, the best she can.

"I'm gonna be a terrible mom," Lorna whispers, cuddled up in Nicky's bunk, clutching a pillow to her chest.

"Hey, hey, none of that," she strokes Lorna's hair, presses kisses to her head, holds her closer, "you'll do great, I know you will."

Lorna twists to face her, "I can't even look after myself, let alone a baby. And by the time I get out of here, she'll be two and a half and I'll have missed everything. She won't even know who I am, Nick."

She frowns. There's nothing she can say that will make any of that less true, and she knows she doesn't have the answers Lorna needs. She doesn't know a thing about raising a kid. Even if she did, Lorna's still going to be stuck inside, and the baby is still going to be outside, and there's nothing she can do or say that's going to change that. She bundles her closer, but the silence is deafening, and she can hear Lorna begin to crack, fighting back sobs, clutching to her like she's the only thing keeping her from drowning. Under any other circumstances, she'd laugh. It's so fucking ironic that she's the one keeping this girl upright, that she's the only one looking after her, when she's never been anything but destructive before. Destructive to herself, to her friends (she has none), to her family. But there's something about Lorna that settles the wildfire inside of her, and she's not even sure who is helping who anymore.

* * *

She's asleep when the C/O arrives, shaking her awake, "Nichols, you're needed in the infirmary. The Morello kid is in labour."

No one wakes Nicky up - she's a grumpy morning person at best - but she's out of bed and running to the infirmary before the information has even processed. They usually get girls transferred to the hospital once they're ready, rarely have anyone give birth on prison premises, but Lorna's too close to be moved. She didn't tell anyone until it was too late. ('Shit, Lorna, why didn't you tell anyone?' 'I didn't wanna cause a fuss' – typical). Nicky's only there because she wouldn't stop wailing for her, and the C/Os are panicking enough without her waking up the whole prison with her shrieking. She grips her hand so tight that Nicky's sure the blood supply is being cut off, but she doesn't care. She doesn't know what she's supposed to be saying or doing, so she spends most of it telling stupid jokes, trying to make Lorna laugh between contractions, but they're too close together, and eventually she's run out of things to say, so she just keeps telling her she's doing great, keeps stroking her damp, sweaty hair, squeezing her hand tight.

Nicky Nichols doesn't cry, so it must be sweat that gets in her eyes, or some dust or something, because when she hears the baby cry for the first time, she has to hurriedly wipe at her face. She's tiny and pink, and they bundle her up in a towel and hand her to Lorna, and Nicky knows she's never seen – never will see – anything as beautiful as this moment. She makes to leave, to give them some space, knowing they won't have long together, but Lorna grabs her hand and tells her to stay.

In the morning, they take Maria away, and Lorna is so exhausted, so heartbroken, such a mess, that they give her a sedative to make sure she sleeps. Nicky thinks that's pretty fucking stupid; she's going to wake up and she's still going to be heartbroken, but she's glad the kid is getting some sleep. She waits a while, and then she goes back to her own bunk, tries to sleep.

But she can't sleep. She can't stop thinking about how everything is different now. Life isn't fair. In 24 hours, Lorna will be back, doing the same shit as everyone else, like she hasn't just had a part of her literally ripped away, and if that's not fucked up, then she's not sure what is.

When she finally drifts off, she dreams of walks in the park with a stroller, Lorna bouncing along happily, Maria eating her first ice cream. She dreams of them going to the beach, Maria building her first sandcastle, having her first paddle in the sea. Even unconscious, her mind won't let the little girl go, won't give in to the fact that she's probably never going to see her again, that the baby's going to have a whole life outside of these walls, and tomorrow she and Lorna will be back in the same lunch hall, eating the same shit, whilst the baby is miles away. And that will be their lives for the next two years.

She doesn't know how it's happened, how a less-than-a-day old infant has left such an overwhelming impression on her, but she wakes up feeling sad and empty, and she can't even imagine how Lorna is.

She makes a silent promise, the same silent promise she made months ago, and forces herself to be strong, because above anything else, she must look after Lorna. She must protect Lorna Morello at all costs.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: this goddamn prompt. Where do I even start? This was supposed to be a _oneshot._ A brief little oneshot of Nicky caring for pregnant Lorna and all the adorable, hilarious fluff that that would involve. I got talked into writing this follow up because once again the idea of Mommy Morello wouldn't leave me alone and this _monster_ fell out. It's not fluffy. It has its moments, but I fully admit that it is also heavy as fuck and probably OOC in places. But it would not leave me alone, so here we are. 

* * *

Everyone leaves her alone for a few days.

Lorna's always been so cheerful, so loud, so sparky; no one quite knows how to deal with how quiet she is. There's a permanent sadness in her eyes. She doesn't wear make up, doesn't fix her hair up nice, doesn't even shovel her food in at the velocity she used to. She's quiet, sad, and still, all of the time.

Everyone leaves her alone, besides Nicky. Nicky couldn't leave her alone if she wanted to.

She gets Red to sweet-talk Healy into swapping her bunk assignment. Boo gets her own cube, Nicky moves in with Lorna. She doesn't know what to say any better than anyone else does, but she hopes her presence alone makes a difference.

On day three, Gloria stops by with a steaming cup of _something _that smells herbal. She doesn't think she's ever spoken to her at all before, not so much as smiled at her in the lunch queue, but the gesture speaks for itself. She's lying across the bed, her head buried in Nicky's lap, and she doesn't move, doesn't smile, doesn't say anything.

"I know it's not easy... losing a baby..."

"I haven't lost her," Lorna says, squeezing her eyes closed, "she's just... not here."

Gloria swallows, shifts awkwardly, "no no, I know... look, a lot of our girls have been through it. It doesn't get any easier – I'd be lyin' to you if I said it did. But just know... we're here... if you wanna talk or whatever."

Lorna mumbles a "gracias", and Gloria leaves, and there's an awkward silence. The drink goes untouched, steaming away on top of her locker.

"Everyone keeps talkin' about her like she's dead, Nick. She's not dead," she has tears in her eyes, and her throat's dry, and it's breaking Nicky's heart a little bit more every day.

"I know," she says hoarsely, not knowing what else she can possibly say.

"I guess... I guess I did lose her, y'know? She was here and now," Lorna's voice cracks a little, "now she's not."

They sit in silence. Nicky hates it because she knows she should say something, that that's her job, but there's nothing she can say that will change anything. She rests her chin on the side of Lorna's head, cuddles her close.

"She's so beautiful, y'know? So beautiful. A couple hours old, and already just... perfect. Like, I never imagined anythin' so beautiful."

"Just like her ma," Nicky says, and Lorna twists her head to smile at her, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Franny'll look after her. She ain't gonna win any mom of the year awards, but her kids... they do alright. She'll do alright." 

* * *

She tries to stay out of it, honest to god she does, but she can't. She can't fight the feeling that it isn't just Lorna that's lost something, that something's missing from herself. There's always been an emptiness, a void in her that she's tried to fill with drugs, with sex, with anything that can help her to _feel something _even for five minutes, but it feels worse now. She knows it's nothing to do with her. She feels like she's stealing from Lorna by making it about her, even in the tiniest sense, but she can't help it.

So, she goes to Red.

Red fills a part of the void too. The part of Nicky that's always wondered what it would feel like to have a real mom, someone who loves you unconditionally, who looks out for your wellbeing, but is also there to smack you around the head when you do something stupid. She thinks Maria is already luckier than she ever was as a kid because she has that, she has a mother who adores her, even if she isn't with her.

It's all the other things she doesn't have that are the problem. Nicky's not dumb. She's heard the way Lorna talks about her home, about her family. The Morellos can barely scrape together enough money to pay their electricity and gas bills, and an extra mouth to feed ain't gonna help any.

It's not like she's expecting Red to say yes, but when she unequivocally says no, she can't help but fight it.

"Come on, ma, I gotta help her. My own mom, she won't do jack shit for the kid."

"You've asked her?" Red says, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow, and Nicky rolls her eyes.

"Of course I haven't. She didn't give a shit about her own flesh and blood, she's hardly going to suddenly feel all maternal over a stranger's kid," she sighs, runs a hand through her hair, "look, ma, I'm not asking for a miracle. A few packs of diapers each month. Some jars of that mushy shit babies eat. Keep the kid healthy, y'know? Don't we owe Morello that? She's family. The kid's family."

"Our family... or yours?" she asks, and Nicky tenses up.

Red's always had a way of knowing exactly what she's thinking, how she's feeling, before she even realises it herself. She clears her throat, looks away, goes to leave.

"You don't wanna help her, that's fine, I'll find another way."

"Oh my stupid little girl."

She turns at the sound of Red's voice, sees the noticeable change in her expression. Her eyes have softened in a way that she only ever reserves for Nicky; for the daughter she never had. It's an expression that Nicky never sees in her own mother's eyes, has never found in anyone who is actually biologically related to her.

She recognises it as the same way she herself looks at Lorna.

"Does Lorna know you came to me?"

Nicky scoffs, kicks at the kitchen floor, won't quite meet her eyes, mumbles, "no, of course she doesn't."

"You are in so deep," she says, matter-of-factly, in that way that only Red can, but she shrugs, shakes her head, "I must be losing my touch, but okay, I will help you. Diapers and food only, though. Don't be getting any bright ideas about anything else, hear me?" 

* * *

When Nicky arrives at their bunk, arms full of clean laundry, she finds Lorna talking to the Diaz girl. She doesn't know much about Daya besides the obvious: that she's pregnant, that she helped Red set up Pornstache, that her mom is a total bitch; but she knows enough to know the girl has a warm heart, and it doesn't exactly surprise her that Lorna gets on with her. After all, they have plenty in common, race issues aside (she wonders if Lorna's already broached the subject of West Side Story or not, but she guesses not because Daya's still speaking to her).

"Well, y'know, it ain't really the right environment for her," she's saying, and it's hardly a surprise that they're talking about Maria. Nicky nods at them in greeting, starts putting away her things, tries not to listen in to their conversation, but can't help herself.

"Must really hurt not being with her. I can't even imagine how I'm gonna cope."

"It does. But I know she's bein' looked after out there. That she's happy and cared for and that when I get outta here, we'll be together."

Nicky can't help but let a sad little smile drift over her face as she stuffs socks into her locker.

"Your man sounds like a good Dad. She sounds like she's bein taken care of," Daya says wistfully, and Nicky can't help it. She can't help but tense up.

"Yeah," Lorna says quietly, and it's only one word, but it's there, and it's enough to set alarm bells ringing.

"Anyways, I should get going. Thanks for the talk though. I mean it... it's cool to get to talk to someone who's been there, y'know? Thanks Morello."

Daya leaves, and Nicky stuffs the last of her clothes into her locker, slams the door shut. She turns, and Lorna's staring at a photograph of Maria, completely oblivious to Nicky's presence. Sighing, Nicky sits down beside her, looks at the picture in her lap, wishes more than anything that the conversation they're about to have didn't need to happen.

"You know you can't keep lying to everybody..."

Lorna looks up with a start, like she hadn't even noticed Nicky sit down, and her face falls immediately, "I know."

"I thought we were done with the Christopher talk?" she lowers her voice, sits as close to Lorna as she can, searches her expression for answers to questions she doesn't want to ask.

"What am I meant to tell them, that my baby lives with my sister because her daddy doesn't want to know her? You gotta understand, I'm doing my best here."

Nicky sighs, "he's not the kid's father, Morello, you know that. We've talked about it. God, I thought you were getting better, that we didn't need to do this anymore, that I was helping you."

"Look, I know you get off on the idea that I need to be fucking saved. But I don't, Nichols. I don't need to be saved by you, by anyone."

* * *

For the first five months of Maria's life, Lorna gets to know her through letters and photographs of her baby girl growing up without her. She doesn't ask Franny to bring her to visit, though it breaks her heart being away from her. Prison's no place for a baby. It's too expensive to keep bringing her across town. Franny can't take the time off work. The list goes on and on, but most of all, Lorna can't bear to have to say goodbye to her again. It was hard enough the first time.

Instead, she surrounds herself with her daughter. Her side of the cube is covered in photographs. She has a hand-print that Franny sent across, 'to mommy, love maria' scrawled at the bottom. She's barely recognisable as the bleary eyed, pink, tiny baby that Lorna said goodbye to. Despite hearing about her in three page long letters, despite seeing new pictures of her every week, Lorna doesn't feel like she knows her. She doesn't know how she smells, how she sounds when she laughs, what she feels like to hold. Lorna doesn't feel like a mom. She feels like someone pining after something she never had.

She gets on with life as best she can. She goes back to being Lorna Morello, convict. Lorna Morello, mother, is gone.

But, eventually, it gets to be too much, the void is too big, and she lets Franny bring her in.

She's wearing a pink dress with a big white bow, and teeny tiny white shoes with pink socks. Her hair's a fluffy mess of dark brown curls, and she has the biggest, brownest eyes Lorna has ever seen, the tiniest, pinkest button nose. As soon as Lorna lays eyes on her, she feels this intense ache in her chest, like finally part of her that's been missing for too long has come back to her.

Franny puts her in Lorna's lap, and even though she's spent years babysitting her sister's kids, it still feels so foreign, so unfamiliar, that she barely knows what to do. She looks down at the baby, and there's tears in her eyes, and she just can't stop staring, can't stop drinking her in.

"She's gotten so big," she whispers, brushing her fingers gently through the little girl's hair, frightened as if she's scared that if she touches her, she'll disappear. That this will all be a dream, "you lookin' after her?"

"Of course I am. She looks healthy don't she?"

"She looks perfect."

Maria smells like baby powder. She has teeny tiny chubby hands, and a pink mouth with a couple of teeny tiny teeth. Her eyes are bright, her hair soft and shiny. She spends most of her time trying to shuck her tiny shoes off her tiny feet, barely pays attention to the woman who is crying over her, holding her close.

"She's got three teeth come through... and she loves to crawl about everywhere. And sit, clappin' her hands, always gigglin'... she reminds me of you when you were teeny, y'know? Always makin' ma put those damn movies on... Annie? Mary Poppins? Y'know?"

Lorna nods, but she isn't really listening, is too busy watching Maria, too busy cataloguing every mark on her little face, frantically trying to file it all away for later, desperate to have something to remember her by.

"She loves her movies. I mean... she's too little to understand them, I know that, but she likes the colors... the music. Always clapping along, gurgling away."

"You like musicals huh baby? I get out, I'll take ya to see a show... just a year and a half to go, y'know, then you'll be with mama all the time, I promise."

Franny lays a hand gently on her sister's, lowers her voice, "you should try and appeal, Lorn, they'd be more lenient knowing you've got a kid at home. You could get outta here quicker. Luca says-"

"No," Lorna looks up abruptly, shakes her head dismissively, "I did somethin' so awful Franny. I gotta pay for what I did. I'm in here cos I deserve to be in here," she smiles sadly, looking down at Maria, "and when I get out, I'll be ready to be a proper mom. I'll be able to be everything Maria needs me to be, okay?"

* * *

Lorna's so much like a kid herself, it's difficult to process the fact she's a mother now. She sleeps curled up with one of Maria's blankets rubbed up against her face, a row of teddy bears on her window ledge. Losing her child to the outside has hardened her, but only minimally. There's still such a softness about her, such a naivety. She has innocent eyes. When they're sitting in the lunch hall together and she's shovelling food in, talking around a mouthful of freezer-burned waffle, or punctuating every word with her cutlery, it's easy to forget the sadness in her heart. She still speaks with an ignorance that makes Nicky's heart swell, but kinda makes her want to bash her face in at the same time. Mostly, she's just glad that the pain hasn't consumed her. That the Lorna she knows and loves (yes, loves) is still there, beneath all the sadness, shining through like the brightest of stars.

Slowly, things kinda go back to normal. They fall back into an easy pattern. Lorna doesn't talk about Christopher, and Nicky doesn't push it. They don't argue anymore. She knows, though she doesn't want to admit it, that when she and Lorna start fucking around again, it's to forget. Lorna needs something to fill the void, and her poison of choice is Nicky. It's not fun and easy like it was before. It's intense. Sometimes, Nicky thinks about breaking it off, but she can't. She thrives on it. She lives for the feel of Lorna's skin under hers, the taste of her, the noises she makes in the dark. She knows she could have practically any damn girl she chooses in Litchfield, but she doesn't want any of them. She would rather have angry, destructive, heart-wrenching sex with Lorna, than not have her at all.

They don't talk about it. It's not really a secret, but it's not out in the open like it was before. There's no groping in the corridors, Lorna doesn't walk by and slap her ass in the lunch hall. They don't flirt. There's no dirty talk, no innuendos. The Lorna she makes scream her name, is not the same Lorna who curls up in her lap and cries herself to sleep, and she's definitely not the same Lorna who playfully argues with her during a game of cardboard scrabble. Nicky knows it's her way of coping, that creating multiple personalities, playing a part, is the only thing keeping her together, but she hates it. She hates having to pretend that everything's fine, like her heart isn't breaking, like she doesn't feel like she's being used. (Not that she isn't used to it, not that she's ever minded before, but Lorna's different).

* * *

The next time Franny brings the baby in, Nicky goes down to the visitation room too. She can't go inside, doesn't have anyone coming in to see her (she never has, probably never will), but she hovers by the window, a sick feeling of deja vu in her stomach.

Maria has her thin, wispy baby curls up in ridiculous little pigtails on the top of her head. She's wearing a little yellow dress, and clutching a stuffed giraffe that she won't let go of. Nicky watches them, but doesn't listen to the conversation, her eyes too fixated on the child who she hasn't seen in nine months, hasn't seen since she was only a few hours old. She's never cared for babies. They're noisy and smelly and they don't really _do anything_. Maria's different. She's the spitting image of her mother, just in a tiny, gurgling, mini form. The way she shoves her giraffe's head into her mouth with her chubby little fingers is so reminiscent of Lorna at breakfast time that it makes Nicky laugh, and she can't stop herself from putting her hands against the glass, longing to touch her soft, pink skin.

Lorna realises they're being watched, and she turns, makes Maria wave a round little hand in Nicky's direction, the giraffe dangling out of her mouth, her eyes wide and innocent.

It brings a lump to Nicky's throat, and she has to leave.

She's not stupid. She doesn't expect Lorna to get out of prison and shack up with her, baby and all. She doesn't expect the happy ending, the picket fence, Maria running around the back yard, calling her 'mommy'.

She doesn't expect it, and, until now, she certainly hasn't wanted it.

If Boo were here to see this, she'd laugh her fucking ass off.

She can't help it. She sees Lorna with Maria, and her heart longs for things it's never ever wanted before. She's never been what you'd call 'rational', but her mind works on logic, and it's struggling to understand this, has struggled to make sense of her feelings for Lorna Morello since day one.

That night, when she's between Lorna's legs in the chapel, she wants to forget just as much as Lorna does. She wants to drown out the sound of her own thoughts, the heaviness of her own heart.

She almost doesn't notice Lorna crying.

Nicky stops, because honestly, she's done some shit, but fucking a girl who is literally having a breakdown on top of her is not one of them. A moment that was so absolutely sexual suddenly becomes tender, and she draws her into her arms, rubs her back, holds her whilst she empties her heart of tears. The boundaries are crumbling. The different Lornas have bled into one. She can't control it any longer.

Nicky kisses her.

She doesn't know what she expects, but when Lorna pushes her off, she feels the worst she thinks she's ever felt in her life.

"What the fuck, Nichols?" Lorna squeaks, wiping her mouth. She folds her arms across her naked chest and shrinks back against the alter they were fucking against.

Nicky, who's always got an answer for _everything_, doesn't know what to say. She leans her head back, closes her eyes, runs a shaky hand through her hair, "I don't know. Okay? I don't know."

"I knew this was a bad idea."

"Right, so it's fine when you're just using me but... god forbid I should actually start to feel somethin' for you. That's a whole different fucking story, right?"

Lorna stares at her with wide eyes, her lips slightly parted, and she's got tears drying on her cheeks, her lipstick's smudged everywhere, her hair a nest. And fuck if Nicky doesn't _still_ want her, even as a hot mess.

"Don't do this," Lorna says in a tiny voice, and her arms are folded so tightly across herself, her knees up to her chin, that she looks like a child throwing a strop. It would be adorable if it wasn't so fucking frustrating.

"You say that like I have a choice. Like I've ever had a choice about any of this," she sighs, "damnit Lorna, at least fucking look at me."

She raises her eyes from the ground, and her chest's heaving, her breath heavy and laboured, and her eyes glistening with tears. Nicky's fingers itch to touch her, to pull her close. It used to be such a foreign feeling, but she's gotten used to it when it comes to Lorna, has spent more time dreaming of her lying in her arms than her between the sheets.

"You coulda walked away. You _did_ walk away," Lorna finally says, and she's trying her best to sound tough, but it's Lorna, so it comes out like a lion cub trying to roar for the first time.

"Because you mess with my head! I came back, didn't I? Haven't I always been here, right where ya need me to be? Do you think any of this has been easy for me?"

Her eyes widen and she lets out a bitter little laugh, shakes her head in dismay, "easy for _you_?! You didn't carry a child for nine months to have her pried from your arms and taken away. Don't tell me my tragedy, my ordeal, was hard for _you_. It wasn't a fucking walk in the park for me either. She's my kid, Nichols, my little girl, not yours. Do not pretend this was as hard for you as it was for me. Jesus Christ, I lost _my_ little girl, what did you lose?!"

"You, apparently," she says, and she's on her feet, dragging her pants up her legs, and walking out of the chapel before her words can even register with Lorna.

* * *

It's a fucking dangerous place for her to be in. Her own head, that is. She's regretting having swapped bunks, especially since Red won't let her swap back, and now she's stuck in a confined space that quite literally reeks of Lorna. She has to lie on her side, facing the cube wall, her music at full volume to even begin to shut it all out, but even then, her mind is going over and over all the things she should have said, all the words she wished Lorna would have the bravery to say back.

Maybe it's not that she isn't brave. Maybe she read the whole fucking thing wrong, and she was nothing but a comfort blanket the whole damn time.

She remembers why she never lets anyone in, why she's never allowed herself to fall for anyone before. The emptiness she feels, she needs to fill, and of course her mind drifts to past vices, to the only thing that's never ever let her down in the past. She practically itches for it.

She squeezes her eyes closed, tells herself it isn't worth it, that Lorna isn't worth it. But she knows deep down that she is. That the ache in her heart is never going to go away, not so long as Lorna's around, anyways. And it's not like she can avoid her, not forever. She might be able to block her out right now, staring into nothingness, music so loud in her ears that they're ringing, but she won't be able to for long.

"A-DORM! SWEEP TIME! SWEEP TIME, LADIES!"

Nicky's pulled out of her thoughts by Mendes hollering at the top of his voice, yanking her headphones out and shouting in her ears. She gets to her feet, slowly, deliberately, and heads outside of her bunk. Lorna's nowhere to be seen, but if she's honest, Nicky's glad. She hopes they take away her lipstick, confiscate the whole parade of toys on her window ledge. She deserves it, she thinks. Nicky's sure as hell not going to stand up for her.

But when Pornstache yanks the bright pink handprint off the wall and tears it into pieces, Nicky can't help but react.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing?!"

"You say somethin' to me, _inmate_?" he gets right in her face, and she can feel the anger boiling up in her veins, knows she's going to do something she regrets, but can't fight it, can't stop herself.

"That's all she has of her kid. Have some fucking compassion would ya? Jesus fucking Christ!"

"Ain't nothing allowed to go up on the walls."

By this point the whole of the suburbs are staring at her, and she knows she's causing a scene, that the only way this is going to end is in three little letters that aren't exactly unheard of by her, but she can't stop. She's shaking with anger, and she wants to punch him in his smug little face but she can see Red out of the corner of her eye and fuck if she hasn't already let people down enough lately.

"So you've torn down everyone else's shit have you? Nah, I didn't think so!" she snatches the paper back, tries to piece the pieces together, but it's a lost cause, "fuck it!" she marches into the cube and snatches up the photographs that are lying scattered on Lorna's now dismantled bunk.

"You are not permitted to re-enter until the search has been completed. Get the fuck outta there."

Nicky stares at him, squares her shoulders and quite deliberately says, "kiss my ass", punctuating every word perfectly.

"Right, Nichols, you've got yourself a one way ticket to the SHU. And I'd shut the fuck up unless you want your little sweetheart to walk her cute little ass down there too."

_Little girl, big mouth._

* * *

The last time she was dragged to the SHU, she was there for a week. This time, it's two.

She misses Lorna's birthday. She knows they weren't exactly gonna throw her a party, but she still feels sad that she missed it.

She misses Lorna. She didn't think she would, convinced herself that she was glad to be shut away in the dark, that maybe here she wouldn't have to think about her, definitely wouldn't have to see her, but in truth, all she feels is empty. Their last conversation runs in a loop in the back of her head and with nothing else to distract herself, it's there all day every day. Time moves so fucking slow when you don't eat, don't really sleep, only have yourself for company.

Last time, she kicked up a fuss, made it worse for herself, wouldn't stop shouting and swearing – the first day, at least. Now, she's quiet. She knows there's no point in fighting the system. She'll be let out when she's let out.

Even then, she doesn't regret what she did. She regrets a lot, but standing up for Lorna? No. She can't help but wonder how she's coping, how her birthday went, whether Franny brought Maria by again. She misses the letters Lorna reads to her, the new photographs she tapes to the walls each week, the smile that tugs at her lips every time a new pile of mail comes in. She misses touching her, misses listening to her sleep, misses holding her when she cries. Hell, she even misses the way she talks with her mouthful, the way she never backs down from an argument even when she's wrong (and she _always_ is).

When they eventually let her out, Nicky has lost track of what day it is, and she knows she looks like microwaved shit. She knows she can't stop trembling, and her hair is even worse than usual, and that her face is gaunt, pale, caked in two weeks worth of dirt and sweat. When she gets up to be let out, her legs feel like they're going to buckle under her. Even as she's led down to the gateway, she doesn't say anything, doesn't have any fight left in her to make a crude remark or mutter under her breath or even acknowledge the CO who takes her.

When she reaches the van, she barely acknowledges it, slides into the back seat and folds her arms across her lap, prepares for a silent journey back to a home that she doesn't quite know she'll fit back into.

She doesn't even realise who is behind the wheel until they're talking at her.

"Who knew all it took was two weeks in SHU to shut you up."

It's Lorna. Nicky almost forgot she drives now, even though it was her who got her the assignment. Her voice is steady, cheerful, teasing. She glances in the rearview mirror and tosses a smile Nicky's way, like nothing's happened, like she's not even been away. Like their argument is just a distant memory, long forgotten.

Nicky doesn't say anything.

"You've still got ya bunk. Red, she made sure-"

"Cool," she interjects, uninterested. She looks out of the window, presses her face against the glass.

"Nick..."

She glances at Lorna, clenches her jaw, "don't you ever keep your eyes on the road, Morello?"

They travel the rest of the way in silence. She doesn't know why she's being so fucking tense. Isn't this what she wanted? Didn't she spend the whole time she was in that shithole by herself longing to have Lorna back with her? Wasn't it her who got her chucked into the SHU in the first place? She thinks of it as prolonging the inevitable. They're going to have to have a conversation eventually, but not now, not here. Lorna has to realise everything isn't going to go straight back to normal. That what happened in the chapel meant something.

When they eventually stop, Bell gets out of the van first, and Lorna seizes the opportunity of them being alone to twist around in her seat, fully address Nicky. Her eyes are dark and there's only the smallest hint of a smile in her expression. Nicky's face remains disinterested.

"Look... Nick... I wanted to say thank you. For what you did. You didn't need to... I mean, I'm the reason you got sent away and I just wanted to say... that I'm grateful, y'know. And that I'm sorry."

Nicky doesn't say anything, just gets out of the van when Bell returns, and Lorna seems to get the message because she walks ahead of them, disappears back into the building whilst Nicky's return is getting processed.

She doesn't want the fucking hullabaloo of people that greet her when she walks back into the joint, but she expects them. Red gives her a look that says everything it needs to; that she was stupid for what she did, that she hopes she's learnt her lesson, that she's glad she's back. Vause asks how she's doing, and Chapman immediately throws her arms around her like for some reason the fact she looks like absolute shit means that their relationship has suddenly blossomed into the touching stage (Nicky likes to pretend that she hates it, but she enjoys the warmth, even if she does scowl, does mutter 'okay okay Chapman get off, you're makin' me look soft'.)

Lorna's nowhere to be found, and Nicky pretends to be glad about it, but she can't help the sadness that creeps in.

She goes back to her bunk and, just as Lorna said, it's just as she left it. She looks at Lorna's side, notices a new stuffed toy on the window ledge, a handful of new photographs on her wall, joining the two dozen she's stuck back up. Maria's blanket is neatly folded and sitting at the end of the bed. Under Lorna's pillow, grey fabric sticks out, and when Nicky takes a closer look, she recognises it as being a sweatshirt. A prison sweatshirt, and one that's too big to be Lorna's. She glances at the label, feels her stomach go funny when she sees her own name scrawled on it in black marker. Shoving it back under the pillow, she goes back to her own side of the bunk.

The row of books that are always precariously stacked on her locker haven't moved. The (now even staler) bag of pretzels is still there. All her postcards are still stuck up. But, there's something new. Amongst the random artwork, the beach Nicky's never been to but liked the look of, the album art from some band, there's a card that sticks out like a sore thumb. Bright yellow, with a spatter of orange and pink paint on it, just looking at it makes Nicky's heart swell.

Underneath, in Franny's scruffy handwriting: _Nicky, love Maria x_

Nicky's mouth's dry. She stares at the little yellow card, can't get her head around it.

"I hope ya don't mind that I put it up for you,"

She turns and Lorna's standing in the doorway, looking tiny and awkward.

"Yeah. Uh... yeah. Thanks," she wipes her hands on her pants legs, suddenly feels like Lorna's looking too closely at her. She doesn't know how to react.

"I guess we ought'a talk, right?" Lorna sits down on her bunk, folds her hands in her lap, "I know it's not somethin' we're good at doin', but-"

"Lorna-"

She quickly shakes her head, "no, no, let me finish. We ain't good at talking, but we've got to. What happened that day... in the chapel."

"I'm sorry-"

"Let me finish!" her voice is steady, fiercer, and Nicky wonders if she's been gone a lifetime, because she can't believe that so much could have changed in such a short period of time, that Lorna could have grown so much. Even though she hates being told what to do, she is impressed, proud even, so she falls quiet, lets Lorna speak.

"Good. What happened in the chapel was a mistake. Having... unimportant sex with you, was a mistake. My head gets so cloudy... so hazy sometimes, that I don't see things how they are. I don't see things the way everyone else sees 'em. I think you of all people probably know that already."

Nicky can feel her pulse so heavy in her chest that it's making her vibrate. She can't stop fidgeting, her leg, the one furthest away from Lorna, moving of its own accord, a bad habit. Her hands are sweaty, and she rubs them again on her pants. Every word Lorna says feels like a slap around the face, and if it wasn't that Nicky Nichols absolutely did not cry, she probably would. She's grateful to years of neglect, years of not feeling like she was worth _shit_ for building her an emotional barrier, for making her be so damn good at feigning apathy.

"I panicked when you kissed me. It makes it complicated, y'know? Don't think I haven't thought about it, but I... it complicates everything. You're the only thing I've got in here, Nicky, whether you choose to believe that or not. The only person who knows me, knows who I really am, and doesn't give a fuck. I have never ever had that. Even on the outside... my sister thinks I'm a monster. My parents never gave a crap about me. But you... you, Nicky Nichols, you beautiful, wreckless, ridiculous human being," she pauses, lets out a low chuckle, "you walk around the place like 'fuck this' 'fuck that' – you don't give two shits what anyone thinks of you. You act all hard all the time. And then you get sent to the SHU over a piece of paper. _A piece of paper_."

"It's more than a piece of paper. I knew it was more than a piece of paper to you," she says roughly, putting her hand gently on Lorna's knee. She watches Lorna's eyes follow, the smile that tugs at her lips.

"I don't think much of myself. At all. I might talk the talk. I might dress myself up, and parade around here with my head held high. But it's an act. All of it's an act, Nick. Do I think I'm worth the great Nicky Nichols trashing her reputation, ripping her little black book in half for? No. No, of course I don't."

Nicky raises a hand to her face, forces her to meet her eyes, "you are."

Her eyes drifting closed, Lorna dips her head, kisses the palm of Nicky's hand.

"I'm so fucked up, Nick."

Laughing, Nicky strokes her hair with her thumb, "aren't we all?"

"I really am. I mean... I have a baby. I don't even know who her father is, don't even remember what he looks like, where I met him-"

"I've had nights like that. It's fortunate homosexuality is a pretty good form of contraception, or I'd have a whole fucking baseball team by now."

Lorna rolls her eyes, but there's a smile in the corner of her mouth, "I'm bein' serious."

"I know. You think I don't know? I was there when you popped the little monster out. I was there the whole entire time. I know what I'm letting myself in for."

"You don't though, not really. You don't know how fucked up it gets inside my head. You don't know what I'm- what I'm capable of," she swallows, looks away, "I don't even know."

Moving closer, Nicky wraps an arm around Lorna's waist, holds her closer. As it always does, Lorna's head finds her shoulder, and Nicky strokes her hair, soothes her, feeling like she has to hold her breath, frightened she's going to say or do the wrong thing and push her away again.

"We can work this all out," Nicky whispers, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "I'm just asking that we do it... together, you know? You think you can do that?"

Lorna's head bobs, and she lifts her weight off Nicky's side, looks at her intently for a long moment, then, slowly, leans in, brushes her lips over Nicky's. It's cautious and it's gentle, but it's sweet, and Nicky feels it through her whole body, the warmth spreading to the tips of her toes, a smile sneaking over her lips. And it isn't her signature smirk, it's something so genuine, so heartfelt that it almost takes her by surprise.

"One day at a time, okay?" she whispers, cupping Lorna's face, meeting her gaze, brushing her thumbs tenderly over her cheek bones.

Lorna nods, and she collapses against Nicky, grabbing a handful of her shirt, resting her head into the nook between her chin and her chest, and it feel like she belongs there. Like there's no other place on earth that she should be.

And okay, maybe it isn't a marriage proposal. It isn't an invite into her home, into being a parent. There's no white picket fence. But it's a start, and that's more than Nicky's ever had before.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** I keep saying it's over and it never is. So here's a stupid fluffy Nicky-centric chapter which was going to be longer but I've decided to split it into two. This story is a monster. I can only apologise.

* * *

Before she gets out, she makes a promise.

As soon as she's on the outside, she wonders why she did it, why she said yes, but when she closes her eyes she can see Lorna, tears streaming down her cheeks, pressing a scrap of paper into her palm and curling her fingers around it, and she knows why she said yes. Why she would say yes a thousand times if she had to.

Now, however, she isn't so sure.

The Morello's couch is saggy and padding-less, probably from years and years of being over-used. There's an arm chair with a crochet blanket thrown across the back of it, an ash-tray on the side, two empty beer bottles on the floor by it, a coffee-table covered in empty food containers. It's not exactly dissimilar to her own apartment, and yet at the same time, completely foreign. A play pen takes up one corner of the yellow-wallpapered lounge, a high chair parked next to the dining table that's covered in laundry. There's a pile of toys resting under the table, right next to a crate of un-opened beers, a stack of magazines.

Nicky perches on the end of the couch, not because she's a snob (honestly, she couldn't care less; at least this place _has_ a couch), but because she can't shake the feeling that she doesn't belong here.

"I'm not gonna lie to you... Nicky was it? I ain't got a clue when they're gonna be back," Lorna's father says from the kitchen, "she don't exactly keep me updated, y'know? I lose track of the kids and what they're up to. Just glad for Fran having a day off. I can't be dealin' with the girl's wailing all day at my age."

He reappears and shoves a glass of orange juice into Nicky's hands, takes a beer from under the table and cracks it open, before sitting down heavily in the arm chair. He doesn't look at Nicky, immediately returns to watching the baseball match on television, yelling at one of the players, completely oblivious to Nicky.

She can't picture Lorna in this house at all. She tries to picture her in this lounge, sitting on this couch, watching West Side Story, mouthing along to all the lines, but she can't. She can't imagine her sharing a beer with her dad, or shovelling food down her throat at the dining table. She can't picture this coffee table with wedding plans spread across it, can't picture Lorna's lipstick marks on the glass she's drinking from.

It's strange to think that Lorna seems to belong at Litchfiled, more than she does here.

"Uh, you mind if I maybe go sit in Lorna's room for a bit?" she asks, after a long interval of listening while Mr. Morello shouts at the television. She's never been good at the whole spending time with people's parents thing, knows it's nothing short of a miracle that she hasn't said anything offensive yet. She can't deal with her own parents, let alone anyone else's.

Lorna's dad doesn't even look away from the screen, "knock yourself out... it's just down the hall."

Nicky finds the bedroom immediately because it has Lorna's name on it, written in cursive black writing on a floral background, and it's the first thing she's seen since she got here that actually makes sense. When she goes inside, she's greeted by a room that, even though it's been long abandoned, absolutely _reeks_ of Lorna. A strong perfume greets Nicky's nostrils, and when she closes the door, she finds herself stood directly in front of a huge West Side Story poster. The rest of the room is similarly familiar; collages of wedding imagery, big pink and red hearts everywhere, stuffed toys. She sits down on the bed, brings one of Lorna's pillows close to her, and sighs. She thought being here would somehow bring her closer to her, but in so many ways, she feels further away than ever.

Eventually, Nicky hears the front door click closed, the sound of Lorna's sister's voice. She leaves Lorna's bedroom, and Franny's standing in the hallway, arms full of shopping bags, Maria on her hip. She locks eyes with Nicky and before she can even say hi, she's thrusting the baby at her.

"Lorna said you'd be by. Here, take her will ya?"

Nicky has never so much as _touched_ a baby before, let alone held one, so she doesn't know what to do with the snotty toddler, besides hold her at arm's length, which inevitably makes Maria cry. Once the initial shock wears off, instincts seem to take over, and Nicky brings the child closer, holding her to her chest and patting her back gently. She's comforted Maria's mom the same way enough times, she figures it must be kind of the same, and, fortunately, the kid stops crying, gazing up at her with big brown eyes. Nicky looks at her, really stares at her for the first time, taking in the way her tiny face resembles Lorna's, the hint of freckles across her tiny nose, the pinkness of her cheeks. Then, all of a sudden, her head's jerked forward, and she can't concentrate on anything but _oh my god that fucking hurts._

"Fuck!"

The word slips out before she can stop it, and she silently scolds herself, realising that the source of the pain is the tiny fingers that have just gripped tightly to a clump of her hair. She has to laugh really, wrestling her head away from Maria's grip, gently ruffling the baby's own mop of curls.

"Y'like my hair huh, kid? Mmm me too. Kinda wanna keep it, you feel me?" she smiles, lets Maria take hold of her index finger instead, can't stop watching the way her little eyes dart about trying to take everything in.

"God, she's been a little terror today. Wouldn't stop screaming in Target. I dunno what her freaking problem is lately," Franny re-appears, and it's so strange how she's talking to Nicky like she's always been there, like they're old friends. She doesn't even question her presence, "mind out though, I reckon she's probably due a diaper change pretty soon."

"Sounds like she's taking after her little madam of a mom if you ask me," their father chips in from the armchair, and Franny rolls her eyes.

"Take no notice of him," she reaches for Maria and slides her out of Nicky's arms before she can protest, "he's in a lousy mood on account of the Mets losing _yet again_. I bet Lorna warned you that he's a grizzly old bear."

Lorna hasn't, actually. When it comes to family, Lorna's barely told Nicky anything, aside from ranting about Franny's gaggle of kids on more than one occasion. She knows her mom's out of the picture, and that she's not a topic Lorna likes to talk about (Nicky can hardly blame her; her own mom isn't exactly her favorite person on earth), knows that Lorna has two elder brothers as well as Franny. But that's about it.

"I'll just give this one a diaper change and then she's yours. Did you decide where you wanna go? She napped all the way home so she should be okay for at least another hour, but I wouldn't take her out of the stroller. And she'll need a feed at five."

Nicky just stares at her, "uh..."

"You're gonna take her out, ain't ya? She could do with the fresh air. It's no good for a kid being cooped up indoors all day, and her gramps certainly never takes her out, so someone oughta."

Mr. Morello joins in, "yeah, and you should get going before the Puerto Ricans next door get home and we all can't hear ourselves think over their god-awful music. Seriously, this neighbourhood used to be half decent before _those_ _people_ took over."

_Well, that's where she gets it from_, Nicky thinks absently, digging her hands into her pockets. When she'd promised to visit Maria, she assumed she was signing up for sticking her head in maybe once or twice, making sure Franny was feeding and dressing the kid. She had never for a moment thought being _left alone_ with her was gonna be part of the deal, or she would have reconsidered. Maternal instincts aren't exactly something she has an abundance for.

"I guess I could take her, uh, to the park or something?" she says, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. Maria's staring wide-eyed at her over Franny's shoulder, and she realises, with dread, that the baby has the same irresistible expression on her face as her mother. The same doe eyed look that Nicky has never once been able to say no to.

"Great! Let me just change her and I'll pack up her things."

Franny disappears with Maria, and when she comes back five minutes later, thrusting Maria into her arms, she's packing bags and talking about stuffed toys and juice cups and blankets, and you'd think Nicky was taking the kid for a weekend, not a twenty minute walk around a park. She slings a diaper bag over Nicky's neck, takes Maria, clips her into the stroller, and finally stands still.

"So, just make sure she doesn't drop Geoffrey because she won't sleep without him but she's always leavin' him places, and the same goes with her damn shoes. And if she gets hungry, there's some fruit sticks in the bag, but make sure you break them in half for her or she tries to swallow them whole."

"Alright," Nicky says hoarsely, staring at Maria who is already trying to shuck one of her bright red shoes off with her mouth, "c'mon then kiddo."

"Lorn's very lucky to have ya as a friend," Franny says, patting Nicky on the shoulder on her way out, and Nicky can't help but tense, suddenly feeling like this was a very very bad idea.

She pushes the stroller out the front door and feels fucking ridiculous. If only Litchfield could see her now. Red with her smug little half smile, rolling her eyes, telling her to be careful; Big Boo laughing so hard she's doubled over. Even Norma would probably have a giggle. Nicky Nichols, dressed all in black, in her signature Doc Martens and ripped black tights, pushing a baby around, a diaper bag covered in little cartoon zoo animals strapped across her.

She's barely out the door when some kid on a bike zips by in front of her, yelling "ayyyye mami!" in her face and she stops to flip him off, only just stopping herself from shouting after him, before dipping to check on Maria. She's gurgling away, Geoffrey the Giraffe in her mouth. Nicky exhales loudly, ruffles the kid's hair, continues.

"I dunno about you, kid, but I fu- _freaking_ hate ducks, so we're sure as hell not going anywhere near them," she says absently, as they finally arrive at the park, "okay okay, we can go sit at the bench by the pond, but I'm _not_ feeding the basta- oh shit- FUCK," she scrapes her fingers through her hair, shakes her head, dips down to look into the stroller, "how's abouts we make a deal and we can feed the ducks so long as you don't tell your mommy that I swore in front of you, yeah?"

* * *

_Lorna,_

_It feels fucking weird writing you, y'know? But you asked me to, so I guess here I am. I hope my handwriting isn't completely illegible, and that O'Neill hasn't blacked out half my writing (I know you're reading this you fatass – well you can stop; there's no lady porn in here, you pervert)._

_The kid's fine. Pretty great, actually. She calls me 'icky' which I am choosing to believe is an unintentional slight. We gotta have a real talk though cos I've heard her on countless occasions shout it at Sesame Street – the kid does not know the difference between myself and a big yellow bird._

_I got round to watching the Woody Allen flick you kept banging on about and I hate to break it to you but I don't see the similarities at all. I probably see myself more in Big Bird than in that kid in the movie. Nice try, though._

_I filed the paperwork for my number to be on your calls list. Let's hope Bell gets off her fat ass and sorts it out soon, yeah?_

_Send Red my love, but watch she don't smack you round the head in return. I haven't sent her anything._

_Keep strong, kid._

_N x_

* * *

Visiting Maria becomes a pretty frequent thing. Nicky would hate admit to it, but it's the highlight of her week, and she even thinks she might be getting the hang of the looking after a kid thing. They go to all sorts of places; the park, the zoo to see the real giraffes (Maria still seems more interested in Geoffrey) and feed the goats, the library, even a couple of museums. A lot of the time, they just sit in the house playing whilst Lorna's dad watches TV and Franny's at work. Nicky's loosened up a lot, doesn't find herself getting so embarrassed helping the kid build blocks, doesn't even feel stupid answering a toy telephone when Maria's chubby fingers thrusts it into her hands. She pulls stupid faces for the kid, and Maria giggles so much that she throws up, and Nicky apologises profusely when Franny swoops in to clean her up.

It's only a matter of time, really, before she ends up taking Maria home for a bit, but it still comes as a shock when Franny asks her to babysit.

"I really wouldn't ask if I wasn't completely desperate," she says, twitching nervously, and for once she actually looks vaguely like her sister, awkward and pleading and nervous.

Nicky, who is in the midst of an intense game of peek-a-boo, pauses to look at her, "it just seems a lot... takin her for the night, y'know? It's a lot less daunting when I know I just hand her back when somethin happens."

"She's pretty good at nights, and you're brilliant with her, honestly. You can tell she adores you. I can't promise she'll be good as gold, but she's sleeping through most nights lately."

"Okay," Nicky says, against her better judgement, and the smile that lights Franny's face up is _so_ Lorna that it almost hurts.

Nicky's apartment isn't child-proof _at all_. She spends a whole day clearing junk out of it, hiding anything that might be dangerous but appealing to a toddler. Franny insists she'll be okay sleeping in Nicky's bed, but she knows she's not gonna get any sleep for fear of rolling onto the poor kid. Even with everything tucked away, Maria crawls about trying to stick her chubby little fingers into plug sockets, pulling books down off the coffee table, trying to eat the TV remote. Nicky spends the whole time chasing her about the apartment, and it's exhausting, but the kid looks at her with those damn eyes of hers, all big and brown, and Nicky can't be mad at her, can't feel anything but love for her.

When it gets to bed time, though, it's a different story entirely.

Maria gets grizzly around eight, so Nicky decides it's bed time. It's difficult enough to change her wriggling body into pyjamas, but when she picks her up to take her to bed, she starts screaming and crying. She tries rocking her, wrapping her in her blanket and bouncing her about like she's watched Franny do countless times in the past. She puts her into the bed with her stuffed giraffe, and Maria just wails louder, kicking the sheets and her blanket off, her face red and tear stained, her tiny arms and legs wriggling about mercilessly. After about half an hour, Nicky's losing her mind and the screaming is constant, and with no other alternative, she calls Franny.

"I've given her Geoffrey, she's got her blanket, I've rocked her, fed her, read her a damn story... and she's still wailin' like a banshee. I'm just outta ideas. I thought you might be able to-"

"You need to sing to her," Franny says down the line.

Nicky, one hand covering her other ear so she can hear properly over the din coming from in her lap, thinks she must have heard wrong, "excuse me?"

"She likes being sung to. If nothin' else works, you'll have to sing to her."

"Sing to her? Sing what? Franny, I don't sing. I don't even know _what_ to sing."

She can practically see Lorna's sister rolling her eyes, "I don't know. Anything. Something soothing. I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Franny hangs up and Nicky is left staring at a screaming child. She pushes her shoulders back, runs a hand through her hair, reminds herself that no one besides a not-quite-two-year-old is ever going to know it happened, and wracks her brains for something she might actually know the lyrics to.

"Kid, you gotta forgive me cos I haven't sang anythin' since I was like seven years old and forced to join choir, so I'm gonna be pretty rusty, y'know?"

Maria continues to cry, her tiny face scrunched up and red, and not entirely dissimilar to Lorna's when she's been crying. Nicky sighs.

"'kay... here we go then..." she cracks her knuckles, settles Maria into her lap fully, or as best she can whilst the kid continues to squirm, places her so that a pillow is tucked behind her head, and she's got the blanket over her, Geoffrey the Giraffe tucked inside her arm. Nicky starts singing the first thing that comes to mind, and her voice is hoarse and completely out of key, but she doesn't care: "_let me know, do I still got time to grow... things ain't always set in stone, that be known let me know, let me..._" Maria starts to settle a little, gazing up at Nicky with wide eyes, her mouth slightly open, "_seems like, street lights, glowin, happen to be just like moments... passin..._ hey, you like that kid? You a fan of Kanye?" Maria's got her tiny thumb in her mouth and she's fighting to keep her eyes open, Geoffrey rubbed up against her face, and she looks so angelic that it's difficult to believe that two seconds ago she was screaming the house down, "hey, maybe there's hope for you yet," she whispers, pressing a kiss to the baby's forehead, before carefully reaching across to the bedside lamp and flicking it off.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: For those of you who wanted Lorna to come back... I have good news and more good news! She's in this chapter! She's in the next chapter even more! Hoorah! Thanks for all the comments. You guys are the best.

* * *

"My sister would like to know why 'tits' has become a part of my two year old daughter's vocabulary?"

Nicky smirks, cradling the phone in the space between her ear and her shoulder, one arm around Maria, the other making a toy pony gallop about the bed, "eh, what's that supposed'a mean? You immediately come to me? I'm hurt, Morello, truly deeply hurt." She can practically see the look on Lorna's face and it makes her heart ache. She chuckles, "naw, seriously, I didn't do it on purpose. Kid just has super senses. Maybe she's gonna grow up to be a dyke like her momma too."

Lorna ignores that comment, "she's at your place now then, yeah?"

Maria's sitting on the bed, trying to chew the head off a plastic cow.

"Yeah, we're playing farmyard animals."

Lorna laughs, and t's such a beautiful sound, one that Nicky's missed so so much, that she can't even bring herself to be defensive. The whole situation still seems so fucking ridiculous, even all these months later. If she were Lorna, she'd be laughing too. If you'd told her a year ago – a few months ago, even – that she would be spending her days playing mommy to a two year old, she'd have laughed her ass off, asked you what drug you were taking. It was so implausible.

And yet, here she is.

"I'm sorry, I just can't even begin to imagine that," Lorna says, still laughing.

"Well, you better believe it, because right now I've got a sheep in one hand, and a My Little Pony in the other, and your kid is trying to consume Daisy the cow in much the same way as you inhale Red's not-quite-beef lasagne."

"I would pay to see that," she says, and there's an underlying sadness in her tone that sucks the laughter out of the moment. The less time you've got, the longer it feels, and the next four months feel like a lifetime.

"Hey, you will soon, kid. It's just a few more months, y'know?"

"Yeah," Lorna says quietly.

Maria interrupts the empty silence by shoving her soggy cow in Nicky's face, with an indignant "icky play-a moo!", catching her straight on the nose. It takes every bit of willpower Nicky has not to swear as she wrestles the giggling toddler, finally prying the toy out of her hands. She lifts Maria onto her lap, careful to keep the phone wedged next to her ear, and bounces her on her lap.

"Your demon child just hit me in the face with a cow," she says, but there's a smile on her lips as she watches Maria's whole face light up as she bounces around, "I'm telling you, I'm beginning to think she's possessed or something."

"Nicky!"

She shrugs, stops bouncing the toddler, ruffles her hair, "no, I mean it! She's always tryin'a beat me up with something or other. I wouldn't be surprised if by the time you get out of there, I'm bald, the amount of my hair she yanks out on a daily basis."

"You really see her every day?" Lorna asks.

Swallowing, Nicky nods, adjusting her grip on the phone so she's holding it rather than doing a balancing act. Maria leans back against her, her thumb in her mouth, the toys discarded at the side of her.

"Sure... near enough. I know, I know... but I don't have any friends my own age out here, y'know? And it helps Franny out, cos she works all the time and your dad ain't exactly the most hands-on grandparent so... yeah..." she feels awkward explaining herself, knows her cheeks are warm with embarrassment. She promised Lorna she'd check in on the kid every now and then, not practically adopt her.

"Thanks, Nick. I mean it... thank you. It means the world, knowin' you're out there, keeping my baby girl safe."

She gazes down at the toddler who is trying hard not to fall asleep on her, smiling softly, "nah, I think she's doing me as much good as I'm doing her, y'know?"

* * *

Nicky should have known that inviting Piper along for one of her days out with Maria was a bad idea.

She might have not have a single maternal bone in her body, but that's still more than Piper does. She whips her hand sanitizer out after she clips Maria into her baby seat, practically gags when Nicky changes the kid's diaper (something she's become an expert at now; she's had to do it so many times), and spends the whole half hour journey worrying over the seats of her brand new car getting baby goo on them.

"Stop being so uptight. She's a baby, Chapman; a tiny human, not a dinosaur."

"Uptight? I am not being uptight. I'm just being cautious."

Nicky smirks, "about your car, not Lorna's kid."

Piper rolls her eyes, and tries to force herself to stop fussing over everything, but it's Piper, so it doesn't really work. Luckily, Maria's being pretty well behaved, babbling happily on the back seat, talking nonsense to her toys, and barely paying any attention to the foreign environment. Piper is lucky – she's caught her on a good day. They're called 'the terrible twos' for a reason. This week alone, Nicky's had food thrown at her, been hit in the face by more soft toys than she can count, and had the kid throw a full on tantrum whilst out grocery shopping, resulting in them leaving before Nicky had even bought anything.

"I still can't believe she's Lorna's. It seems so crazy to think of Lorna as a mom," Piper says after a moment.

"Wait a bit, get to know her, and _believe me_ you'll know she's Lorna's. Never seen anyone else stuff their face like those two. And I swear to god, sometimes I look at her, and the kid's expressions... it's like looking at a tiny version of Lorna."

Smiling, she glances in the rearview mirror and looks at the little girl, "bet she's got you wrapped around her finger then. You never could say no to her mom, either."

Nicky scowls, rolls her eyes, but there's a smirk on her lips because she knows Piper's right. So, she spoils the kid? Who cares. What else is she going to spend her money on? Her own mother feels the need to deposit huge sums of cash into her account to ease the guilt inside of her, and Nicky has no use for it now she's not wasting it all on her next fix. So, Maria gets the occasional toy... a stupid giraffe hat that never stays on her head... ridiculous tiny sunglasses because what toddler _doesn't_ need tiny sunglasses? It's easy for her to get carried away. Lorna's family can't always afford things, so Nicky makes up for it.

"It's just so weird... thinking of her in there still, with this little version of her on the outside. It doesn't seem... right, does it? She'll come out, and this little girl is going to know _you_ better than she knows her own mother."

As ever, Piper's ability to say just the wrong thing astounds Nicky and she has to bite her tongue not to snap at her, knowing that her friend's heart is in the right place, even if her mouth isn't always. She feels guilty enough as it is, knowing that by the time Lorna is reunited with her child, Maria will have this whole personality built around people who aren't her mom. She already does. She already has this connection with someone who should be a complete stranger, more than she does the woman who carried her for nine months. But there isn't anything Nicky can do about that, and she reasons that it's better for the kid to be loved in Lorna's absence, than to go without.

"How's Alex?" Nicky says, in an attempt to change the subject. She enjoys the way Piper's eyes narrow, the way her grip on the steering wheel tightens.

"Do we have to talk about her?"

She grins, "sure we do. You wanna keep talking about how fucked over my relationship is, I gotta bring up yours."

"You realise you just swore in front of a two year old," Piper says, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't change the subject," glancing into the backseat, Nicky shrugs, "she's not listening. And besides, we have an agreement, don't we kid?"

Maria looks up from her toys and grins, looking more like Nicky than Lorna for a split second, and Piper can't help but laugh.

"Hey, Maria, what's your favourite word at the moment, huh?" she continues, pulling a face at the girl, and then gesturing, trying to prompt the word, but ultimately failing when Maria decides her doll deserves more attention than Nicky does.

"Please tell me you haven't been teaching that child curse words," Piper says, wearing her best lecturing face, one that Nicky has seen countless times.

"Eh, not curse words... just a few anatomy words, y'know. Harmless stuff," Nicky turns back to the road, taps her fingers on the dashboard, "anyway, back to Alex..."

The look on Piper's face is so typical of her that Nicky laughs, and when she doesn't respond, they let the subject drop. In all honesty, she's just really fucking glad to have Piper around. It feels good to spend time with someone who she can be herself around. As much as she loves being with Maria, interacting with the Morello family is exhausting. She feels like she's constantly having to bite her tongue not to say something she shouldn't, and that's not really a feeling Nicky's familiar with, primarily because she's never cared enough before. She's always spent so much time alone, being in a full house, trapped in a room with noisy kids, Maria on her lap, Sesame Street on the TV, whilst Franny does the ironing still feels kind of like it should be her worst nightmare, and the fact that it _isn't _is still troubling. But, it's still difficult. It's so difficult being immersed in Lorna's family, and not being able to talk about her truthfully. It's so difficult spending so much time with people who know so little about you. At least with Piper, she's exposed her whole self to her before. Piper knows her better than anyone else, besides maybe Lorna, and it's a relief to just be around her, to be playfully bickering with her, to know she has no expectations. It feels like home in a completely different way to how being around the Morellos does.

They finally reach their destination, and Piper pulls into a parking space near the edge of a cliff-top, and for a moment Nicky just takes in her surroundings, the sea air, the blue expanse in front of them, where the sky meets the sea. There's little boats on the horizon, people surfing. It's the first time she's been to the beach in over five years. The first time Maria will ever step onto the sand. It seems like a monumental event, and all of a sudden Nicky's overwhelmed by how much she wishes Lorna were here to share it with them.

"Up! Up! Peese up!" Maria chants from the back seat, dragging her out of her thoughts.

"Yeah yeah yeah... patience is a virtue, kid. One you and your mom definitely do not have."

Once she's got Maria out of the car, she finds Piper gathering things out of the trunk. Nicky slips Maria's diaper bag over her head, grabs a bag with a towel, bucket and spade in it, and leaves Piper to carry the huge cooler box of food that she _insisted_ on bringing. Maria babbles away, wriggling about in Nicky's arms as they walk down the steps onto the beach, and Nicky watches Piper wrestle with the wind to lay out a picnic blanket, laughing at her rather than attempting to help.

"Hey, I've got my hands full," she says when Piper shoots her one of her signature looks.

"Moo!" Maria chimes in, grinning.

"See, even the baby sees through your lame excuses, Nichols."

* * *

They spend so long at the beach that Maria tires herself out. When Piper drops them off at the house at the end of the day, Nicky has to scoop the sleeping toddler up off the backseat and carry her inside, saying a quick bye to Piper, with the promise of calling her later in the week. They've missed dinner, but Maria is so zonked out that it doesn't really matter, and when Franny opens the front door, Nicky tells her she's going to put the kid straight to bed. It's a routine she's done so many times now that it's second nature, and Franny doesn't bother to tell her where things are, just lets her get on with it.

Once Maria's safely tucked up, Nicky sits down heavily by her crib, leaning on the bars, her head resting in her hands. She watches the kid sleep, and sighs.

"You look just like her when you sleep, y'know? Peaceful,"she whispers, gently tucking the blankets in around Maria, chuckling softly, "it's the only time she quits moving about. You share that one, too."

She's met with silence, and after a day filled with noise and laughter, it feels particularly empty. There's still a buzz of commotion coming from the living room, but it feels a million miles away, and it's a noise that has nothing to do with her, that's just as lonely as being in this room is. Still, she doesn't want to leave, because her own apartment is cold and abandoned and soundless, and at least here holds potential. She stares down at Maria and thinks that maybe all those promises she made, all those things she dreamt of with Lorna, aren't so far away.

"I love her... your mommy," she says quietly, realising it's the first time she's said it aloud, the first time she's admitted to it. Nicky Nichols doesn't love people. She fucks people, uses people, breaks people, but she doesn't love them. But Lorna isn't like anybody else, and it makes sense that she loves her, really loves her, because she's been different since day one. And if she didn't love her, she wouldn't have devoted her time since she got out of Litchfield to looking after this tiny human that is in every single way a part of her.

"It's not even like I meant to fall in love with her, y'know? I thought we were just havin' fun, and then you had to come along and change everything. And she's not an easy person to love, your mommy. She doesn't think she deserves it. She does. She absolutely does. She's this incredible person- just you wait, kid, you'll _love_ her. You will because there's no fuckin' way that you could _not_ love her. I don't understand how there are people who aren't madly in love with her," she laughs, "well... I mean she is pretty fucking racist. So maybe I do understand. And she says _so many stupid things_. And she's always convinced she's right, but she never is. So, yeah, she's not flawless, y'know?"

_Why am I even talking to you about this_, she thinks, shaking her head at her own stupidity. This whole playing mom thing has made her soft. Maybe this is how Red feels. Except Red cures most problems by slapping Nicky around the head, and that's not exactly an option in this situation.

"You shouldn't keep swearin' in front of her; she's already started picking words up."

Nicky almost jumps out of her skin, turning to find Franny hovering in the doorway, a smug little smile on her lips. _Shit, how much did she hear?!_ Quickly standing, Nicky runs a hand through her hair, which is particularly messy, the sea air not doing anything to tame the frizz.

"It's all good; she's asleep."

Crossing her arms, Franny nods, "yeah, you seem to have tired the poor thing out. Did she behave herself for your friend?"

"Yeah, good as gold."

Well, besides eating a handful of sand, running off multiple times, and screaming her head off when she dropped her ice-cream, making Piper go buy her another one, she had behaved, Nicky supposed.

"Good. Hey, feel free to stay over if you want. It's late. You can take Lorna's bed?"

As much as the idea of being engulfed in Lorna's belongings sounds appealing, Nicky shakes her head. She knows she wouldn't sleep, wouldn't feel right being in there without Lorna beside her. She probably won't sleep, anyway, but she would rather attempt to in the safety of her own home, curled up on the couch, an old black and white movie on the TV.

"Nah, it's cool. Thanks though. But, uh, hey, you're right, I oughta get going," she gazes down at Maria one last time, before grabbing her bag and heading for the door.

"Nicky?" Franny's voice is so soft she almost doesn't hear it.

"Yeah?"

She looks like she's going to say something, but changes her mind at the last second, "night."

"Yeah, night."


	5. Chapter 5

It's 7.46am on a Saturday when Nicky is rudely awoken by her phone ringing. She's not a morning person, and her first instinct is to throw the damn thing out of the window, but she's awake now, so that wouldn't really serve any purpose. Reluctantly, she peels her eyes open, feels about on her bedside table, finally reaches her phone, peers blearily at the screen.

Franny.

Just like that, she's awake, sitting up, slamming her phone to her ear at record speed, her heart thumping in her chest, "what's wrong?"

Her mind immediately goes to the worst. Maria's had an accident. She's not well. Worse. She doesn't remember ever being this concerned for her own health – if anything, she'd longed for one of her many health conditions to wipe her out, at the time, of course – but there's a sick familiarity in the moment, that makes her whole body tense, remembering Lorna's fall, Tricia's death... every bad piece of news she's ever received. Good things seldom occur before 8am.

"She has a date!" Franny exclaims in a voice that is far too chipper for this time of morning, "she finally has a solid date."

It takes a moment for Nicky's brain to come out of panic mode, to register that they're talking about Lorna, that the kid is fine. Better than fine, in fact; her mom's coming home.

"When?"

"Three weeks on Tuesday," Franny says, and there's so much warmth in her voice, so much joy. She isn't a particularly joyful person; Nicky doubts she ever really was, even before Lorna got sent away. It makes a nice change to hear her so happy.

"Well, damn," she says, trying to process this information, "that is fucking soon."

"It is," she says, and Nicky can hear her smiling, "she's finally coming home, Nick."

It isn't until Franny hangs up and Nicky's lying spread out on her bed that the news really sinks in. Lorna's coming home. The day they've waited for is finally almost here. The woman she hasn't seen in months, who she loves more than she knew she was capable of loving, is finally going to be back with her.

She knows she should be overwhelmed with joy, but a part of her isn't. A part of her is still in panic mode. It's something that's so deeply rooted in Nicky's personality that she can't help it. Happiness always comes at a cost. The numerous anxieties about Lorna's mental health, about their relationship, about how she's going to cope with being a mother; all of it's been easy to avoid whilst she hasn't been here, but the thought of her being out, and having to come face to face with it all, is scary. Nicky still has to sleep with the lights on, with a television on, because she can't sleep in the dark. Every damn time there's a loud noise she finds herself going to lie down on the ground (she actually _did_ lie on the ground once, which was fucking embarrassing given it was outside her apartment, and it was the fire alarm, and everyone else in her building probably saw her, but it was 6am and she'd been up with the baby all fucking night). Adjusting to life outside prison isn't easy. Nicky's a much stronger person than Lorna is, and she still struggles with it every single day. Adjusting to being a mother isn't easy. It's become more and more clear to her that the Lorna who went into prison, and the Lorna who is going to come out, are two drastically different people, not only because she's a mother now. She hates to be a pessimist, but she's seriously concerned for what will happen to Lorna when she's unleashed into the real world, and more so that she has absolutely no idea of how to help her.

Lorna may have been right when she said that Nicky got off on trying to save her, because her first thought is 'how the fuck am I gonna do this' and she knows that it should be how are _we_ gonna do this, how is _Lorna_ gonna do this. She never chose to be some kind of hero, but at the same time, she _does_ thrive on it, doesn't she? The need to be needed? Isn't that what's got her through being on the outside? Being needed by Maria, being needed by Franny when she's at work and has no sitter. Always being needed, never having a moment to have to think about her own sorry existence, keeping busy busy busy.

Maybe it isn't even the fact that Lorna coming out is scary for Lorna. Maybe it's that _she_'s going to be replaced. That her role in Maria's life is suddenly going to be much, much smaller.

_Bullshit._

* * *

Franny wants to throw her a party, and it feels so fucking weird because Nicky knows that back in Litchfield they're doing the exact same thing. They're making toilet paper streamers, and Red's making a cake and fixing up Lorna's favourite things, and Yoga will have got the arts and crafts supplies out, be making posters with 'we'll miss you lorna' in big pink letters, and it feels so _stupid_ to be doing the same thing on the outside.

Lorna won't want it, she tells Franny, but she knows she's not going to be able to deter her from going ahead with it because that's what families do. They don't get that the last thing you want when you get out of prison is everyone making a fuss of you, making you the centre of attention. You want quiet. You want to collect your thoughts in private, surrounded by old, not-quite familiar things. You want to readjust to your surroundings without people having _expectations_ of you, without them keep sticking their noses in, constantly asking if you're okay. Nicky might not have had a family doing it, but she'd had _Piper Chapman_, and that was, in most ways, worse.

Then again, maybe she's being selfish, and it's her who doesn't want the fuss. Maybe she just wants Lorna to herself. Who knows?

She's put on Maria duty which is hardly surprising since the kid _loves_ her, and she sure as hell isn't going to be any use in the kitchen or in making decorations. Franny suggests they try to make Lorna a coming home card, but really what they end up making is a mess. More of the paint and glitter winds up down Maria's dress and in Nicky's hair than on the card. Still, it's a pleasant distraction, and it keeps her out of Franny's way whilst she covers the lounge with balloons and streamers, and helps Mr. Morello in the kitchen. Nicky still feels uneasy about it all, but she can pretend not to when she's busy, and Maria certainly makes sure she is.

"Geez, kid, I don't even think you're _trying_ to stay inside the lines," she complains, watching Maria destroy the picture she's drawn on the front of the card, the picture of Lorna looking like it's come out of a horror movie now that she's covered in red crayon.

"You know she's too young to understand coloring properly, Nick," Franny appears carrying a tray of food, and stops to put a juice box on the table for Maria, "just watch she doesn't try to eat that crayon. We've already had three in that pack chewed up."

"On it."

She takes the crayon away, and Maria settles with her juice box whilst Nicky pulls the sticky, glittery mess of card apart to attempt to write inside of it. She gets as far as writing 'to' before she has to stop, because somehow writing 'mommy' feels so wrong she's not sure she can do it.

"You should leave that to dry before you write it," Franny says, drawing her out of her thoughts.

* * *

They argue over who is going to pick Lorna up.

Franny thinks the whole family should go, but even the idea of that makes Nicky want to be sick. She can't imagine how Lorna will cope with the whole Morello clan fighting over themselves to get to her. She wonders how it's possible that she knows her so much better than these people, her own family, do. They've known her their entire lives, and yet they still seem so clueless about her.

In the end, they agree on letting Nicky take Franny to collect her. They argue over Maria, too, but eventually Nicky gets her way, and the kid is left at home with her grandfather. Given that Lorna has insisted they don't bring her to visit for the last six months, Nicky doesn't think she's going to want her there now.

The drive feels longer than ever, and Nicky knows she's driving Franny crazy with her constant fidgeting, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel, unable to sit still, but to Franny's credit, she doesn't say anything. Beneath her ice-queen exterior, she's probably just as nervous, just better at hiding it.

"Do you think they'll give her the same parole officer as you?"

Nicky shrugs. Her throat's dry and she's not really been paying attention to what's going on in the car, so the question takes her by surprise, "ehh, I doubt it. They like to give you one on the other side of town just to fuck with you."

"Your one sounds like a jerk, anyway."

"I think that goes with the territory."

They pull up outside Litchfield and Nicky cuts the engine. It feels weird to be back. She hasn't set foot anywhere near this place since the day she was released, hasn't had any reason to. There's a pang of something that's not quite nostalgia in her chest, and she swallows it back, runs her fingers through her hair, tries to relax. It's weird, knowing that the people she considers her family are just beyond that fence, just a short drive down a path away. So close, and yet so far away, so unattainable.

Lorna, however, _is_ attainable. And that's the scariest part of all.

"Okay?"

Nicky nods, smooths her fingers through her hair one last time, "yeah. I'm cool. Just... weird being back here, y'know?"

Franny reaches across and pats her leg, and it's such a little gesture, but contact is so rare between them that it means everything.

"So, what do we do now? Are we meant to go up to the doors, or-?" she moves her hand back, and Nicky watches her eyes scanning the area, and if she didn't recognise her nerves before, she does now.

"They'll let her out. We just wait here."

It feels like hours, sitting in a stuffy, silent car, staring anxiously out of the window, but it's actually only twenty minutes or so. At the first sight of the little brunette's head bobbing towards them, Nicky's breath catches in her throat, and she has to remind herself to breathe. She feels ridiculous.

Lorna looks smaller. It's difficult to explain, but in the t-shirt and jeans they've given her, she looks tiny. Her hair's grown, and she's got a sweet little fringe that sits awkwardly across her forehead, and her make-up looks the same, but at the same time, somehow, different. She looks tired. That's not much of a surprise though; Nicky's last night she hadn't been able to sleep a wink. As she reaches the gates, she has this nervous doe-eyed stare on her face, but her eyes light up when she sees the car, sees who's inside.

Nicky slips out first, and her legs feel like lead as she closes the small gap between them. For a moment, she just stands there, not really knowing what to do or what to say, and she can sense Franny standing just behind her, feeling just as awkward. Lorna gazes at her with wet eyes, trying desperately hard not to cry, and her lips are curved up in the tiniest of smiles.

"Hey, kid," Nicky finally says, and her fingers ache to run through that lightly curled hair, to cup her face, but she's holding back.

"Hey."

And it's only a second longer before they give in and Lorna throws herself into her arms. Finally letting herself breathe again, Nicky holds tightly to her, presses her lips against her forehead, wants to be as close as possible to her and never let her go.

Franny clears her throat, and they let go of each other, but Lorna stays close.

"You, uh, got everything?" she says, looking between them.

It sounds more like they're collecting her from a sleepover than three years in prison. She's wearing a weird expression and Nicky doesn't know whether she should be concerned or not, but thinks it's better to shrug it off. Today is going to be weird enough. She glances at Lorna, who is nodding. She's carrying an envelope which Nicky assumes has the stuff from her cube wall in it, and nothing else, which isn't really surprising. Nicky had walked out with nothing but the Morellos' address.

"Okay, well, we should go," Franny continues, awkwardly, and they pile back into the car.

Lorna looks so small on the backseat all by herself, but she's her usual cheerful self as they drive through lunchtime traffic, making small-talk, and avoiding anything important or scary. Nicky itches to ask her about Red, about Norma and Gina. She even wants to know how Boo is. But she can sense that Lorna doesn't want to talk about it, would rather pretend it never happened, and she'll grant that wish, if only for the half hour drive home.

She doesn't even ask about Maria, which leaves a weird feeling in Nicky's stomach, but she shrugs it off.

"It's good to have you home," Franny finally says, as they pull up outside Lorna's family home, and it sounds genuine but there's still this uncomfortable look in her eyes which Nicky can't quite place.

Lorna's voice is unusually soft, "it's good to be home."

The house smells like garlic, which isn't really a surprise given the meal Lorna's dad's been preparing all morning. It's the first time he's 'got off his fat ass and cooked in years' Franny says, and Nicky watches the way Lorna's eyes widen, the way her forehead creases, her lips pulling into an open mouthed smile that makes her nose scrunch. She could watch her for hours, now that she's here.

"I know someone who's dying to see you!" Franny squeezes Lorna's shoulder, and maybe if Nicky wasn't staring at her she would have missed the flicker of fear that flashes in her eyes, but she doesn't.

As Franny goes to fetch Maria, Nicky's hand finds its way into Lorna's, and she tangles their fingers together, squeezes her hand. She's well aware of her father's presence in the next room, her brothers in the lounge, already pigging out in front of the television. She wants to hold her close, to let her hands roam every inch of her body, catch up on everything she's missed in the last six months, but now's not the place or the time. Holding her hand, alone, reminds her that she's real and she's there, and that's enough for now.

"Do I look alright?" she whispers, and it's so familiar that for a second Nicky feels sick.

Nicky brushes Lorna's hair away from her face, looks her square in the eyes, lets her hand linger at her temple perhaps longer than she should, "you look great, kid."

She thinks maybe she should add 'plus the kid is two years old and has no idea what anything looks like' but she decides against it.

She hears Maria coming before she sees her. The kid's babbling on in a loud, over-excitable voice that is typical of Maria when she's been left alone for an hour. Nicky watches Lorna carefully, sees the tears start to gather in her dark brown eyes. She lets go of Nicky's hand and moves towards the little girl who is wriggling about in her aunt's arms.

"Look, Maria, it's your mommy."

Lorna's shaking as she reaches gingerly for Maria and strokes her unruly brown hair. The toddler immediately tries to bury her face in Franny's shoulder, holding Geoffrey close to her, coming over shy all of a sudden. It would be cute if it weren't for the look in Lorna's eyes, the way she immediately retreats.

"C'mon kid, it's your mom. You remember your mom," Nicky says softly, causing Maria to peek out at her with wide brown eyes, "see, it's okay, it's just mommy."

The kid looks between Lorna and Nicky and then back at Franny, who she hits with the giraffe. Franny laughs uneasily_, _but Lorna looks more like she's about to burst into tears.

"How about you hold her?" Franny suggests, "she needs to get used to you."

Nicky can see from the look on Lorna's face that she doesn't think it's a good idea, but she stays quiet. It's none of her business. This whole scene is feeling more and more tense and she kinda feels like she wants to get the fuck out of here before Lorna loses it and completely breaks down. She stays rooted on the spot, her mouth dry, a sick feeling in her stomach, and she's silently praying – well, maybe not _praying_, but pleading – that Maria behaves herself, that she lets Lorna have this one small victory.

Once Maria's in Lorna's arms, she's quiet. She stares up at her, tilts her head to one side. Sometimes she looks so much like a tiny adult that it makes Nicky crack up, but today, she doesn't have an ounce of humor left in her. It feels like she's watching in slow motion as Maria's little pink face scrunches up, and she starts to wriggle, and all of a sudden there's that horrible screaming and wailing that cuts right through you when you're trying to get her to sleep at 3am, and she's kicking and screaming and Franny's trying to calm her down. And Lorna, looking completely shell-shocked, is just staring at her. Her eyes are wide and her bottom lip is quivering, and she's staring, unmoving, at the screaming child, and Nicky realises too late that somethings wrong. It only clicks when Lorna's shoving the baby into her arms and running away, mumbling something incoherent as she disappears into the bathroom.

* * *

**A/N:** honestly, I'm not sure about this chapter. This story is winding down now and I think it's becoming difficult for me to get from A to B and complete what I want to complete. Anywho that aside, I want to say thanks to everyone for their continued support and for all the lovely reviews. They mean the world.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay and thanks for your patience everyone.

* * *

It's an hour before Lorna comes out of the bathroom. Her eyes are rimmed with red, even though she's re-applied her whole face of make-up, and seems more composed.

Nicky spends a good part of that hour sitting with her back flat against the toilet door, listening to Lorna sob, with Maria chattering away to her aunt in the next room over. She's almost angry at the kid for so quickly falling back into normal behaviour, but she knows it's no more Maria's fault than it is Lorna's, or anybody else's for that matter.

Eventually, she gives up on calling Lorna's name through the door and receiving no response, and relocates to the living room to relieve Franny of a now very over-energetic toddler. By the time Lorna creeps into the room and sits down beside her on the carpet, she and Maria are halfway through a jigsaw puzzle, Maria's sticky little chubby fingers trying to force pieces into the wrong places. Nicky glances in Lorna's direction, before returning to Maria, ruffling her hair.

"Hey, kid, you wanna let mommy help with this? You're makin' a mess of it."

Maria twists to look at her, a piece of puzzle clutched in her hands, and then looks at Lorna. For a moment Nicky holds her breath, scared that it's all going to kick off again, but then Maria hands Lorna the puzzle piece and it's such a tiny gesture but she knows how much it means to Lorna by the teary smile she offers, the way she moves ever so slightly closer.

"Your mom ain't so good at jigsaws either, mind you," Nicky says, smirking, and Lorna elbows her softly in the ribs.

"Whatever, I'm better at 'em than you, Nichols."

"Yeah? How about that time you tried to put a piece of sea in one of the trees? Even though it didn't even fit so you tore off one of the corners squashing it in."

Lorna frowns, "in my defence, it was a very green bit of sea!"

"Yeah, yeah," Nicky says, but she can't stop grinning, and Maria prods her hard in the arm, with an indignant 'Icky!', trying to get her attention as she shoves a piece of monkey face onto a zebra's ass, "the kid has obviously picked up your talent," she says, chuckling as she tugs the piece from the toddler's fingers, much to Maria's annoyance.

Lorna's quiet, and it isn't until Nicky looks at her a long moment later, after quietly putting pieces of puzzle together with Maria, that she realises she's crying.

"Sorry," she whispers, and Lorna shakes her head furiously, forces a small smile.

"No no... don't be. I'm fine."

Before Nicky can challenge her on that, Franny appears with a coffee cup which she puts into Lorna's hands, smiling softly as she watches Maria continue to play with the pieces of puzzle, finding it more fun to see how many she can pick up at once than putting it together.

"Lorna used to have quite the appetite for puzzle pieces. Y'remember Lorn? Ma went absolutely nuts at you for swallowing one of the pieces of the Empire State building. When she was three or four she'd to try and eat just about everythin'," she grins, and Nicky can't help but smirk, imagining Lorna shoving objects into her mouth in much the same way she plucked apart Red's cooking and crammed it all in.

"I guess that's somethin' else Maria gets from you," she says, and when Lorna smiles, it reaches her eyes for the first time all night.

* * *

Maria flakes out around seven and Nicky puts her down for a nap. Lorna hovers awkwardly in the door way, not daring to go in, but unable to stay away.

It's so weird watching Nicky with Maria. Surreal. Nicky's always been there to look after _her_, but seeing her acting maternal is something else entirely. It's bizarre, and Lorna hadn't been convinced that it existed until she saw it with her own eyes, thought that Franny must have been making it up. But she wasn't, and it's real, and she can tell, even from only seeing them together briefly, that Maria adores her, and that the feeling's mutual.

She feels inexplicably sad. She knows she shouldn't, that her first day of freedom, of being reunited with her daughter and her family and Nicky should feel overwhelmingly joyful, but she can't avoid the aching emptiness she feels instead. It's looking at the world and realising how far everything has moved on without her. How big Franny's kids have gotten. How big her own daughter has grown in the time she's been away from her. The lack of familiarity. The way she could stare at Maria all day and still not feel any closer to knowing her.

Even Nicky's different, she thinks. Softer. Warmer.

Franny calls her 'Nic'. She laughs at Nicky's jokes and smiles more than Lorna's seen her do in years. They have inside jokes that Lorna doesn't understand. When Maria cries, they know exactly what she wants, exactly what to do, and Lorna just stands there, helpless, disconnected.

Lorna is as much Maria's mom as she was Christopher's fiancé.

"She's completely out," Nicky says, snapping Lorna out of her thoughts.

"Guess it's been an exciting day," Lorna replies, but she doesn't think she means it. Today has been like any other day in Maria's short life, and she isn't ignorant enough to think otherwise.

"Sure."

They stand there awkwardly, in the doorway, not talking for a long moment, and Lorna wishes the silence would swallow her. She doesn't remember ever feeling so uncomfortable with Nicky, and it makes her feel sick, makes her want to cry. Most of all, it makes her want to go back to Litchfield, to curl up in a ball on her bunk and never leave.

"It'll get better," Nicky says quietly, as if she might have been reading Lorna's thoughts, and Lorna lifts her head quickly, widens her eyes, nods even though she doesn't believe her.

* * *

Nicky stays over. She sleeps on the couch. Lorna would rather have her curled up in bed next to her, but it feels weird, so she doesn't suggest it.

She doesn't sleep, anyway. She leaves the light on because she's forgotten what it's like to be in the dark, but her bed's too springy, her sheets too soft, and it feels foreign to be sleeping inside instead of on top, and the duvet's too heavy. There's too much going on in her head to sleep. It feels like her first night in Litchfield all over again; every sound puts her on edge, and every time she closes her eyes, she starts to panic.

Her old bedroom feels like it's swallowing her. She can't blame her family for leaving it as it is; the old Lorna would have gone absolutely mad if they'd so much as laid a finger on her things. Still, she feels like it all serves as nothing but a painful reminder of everything that's happened, everything she's tried so hard to forget. The once comforting pictures and slogans suddenly seem sinister, terrorizing. Like they're taunting her to go back into that headspace, into that pit of illness that she's been trying so desperately hard to climb out of.

They started giving her pills in Litchfield. Red, who had always sworn never to deal with _any_ kind of drug, legal or otherwise, had gone against all her morals to sneak them in, and Lorna had taken them out of some twisted sense of loyalty. Though they made her feel lousy to begin with, made it impossible for her to sleep, made her stomach church every time she ate something, once her body got used to them, they started to help. After a while, she was taking them because they made her feel better, quietened the voices, eased her growing sense of anxiety. She made Red promise never to tell Nicky.

Now that she's out, though, she has one strip left and then that's that.

It plays on her mind as she stares from one poster to the next, stares so hard at the red and pink lettering that her vision starts to go fuzzy.

Eventually, after lying awake for an hour and a half, she slides out of bed, tugs a sweater over her head, and pads quietly through to Maria's room. It's not like she really intends to; her feet take her there by themselves, and it's only when she quietly opens the door and inches closer to the crib that she really realises what she's doing.

It isn't as though she hasn't spent enough time around babies to not be phased by them - Franny's boys were always as much work for her as they were her sister – but everything about Maria perplexes her. She knows there's so much for her to worry about, so much about their future together that's uncertain. But, when she gazes into the crib, and looks down at her daughter's sleeping face, the way her tiny thumb is in her mouth, her other arm clutched tightly around her stuffed giraffe, she can't help but feel this warmth in her heart that she doesn't think she's ever experienced before. It feels like hope, she decides. Finally, in this sleeping child, she has a real hope for the future. Until now, everything's been built on fantasy and illusion, but Maria is unquestionably real, and she's hers, and for as long as she has that, maybe Lorna can build a proper future for herself.

* * *

In the morning, Nicky finds Lorna asleep in the chair next to Maria's crib, and she can't help but notice how content they look, sleeping side by side.

"Unusual for her to still be asleep at this time," Franny says, appearing quietly in the doorway, "did you sleep okay?"

"Yeah," Nicky replies, but doesn't draw her eyes away from the figures fast asleep across from her.

She didn't, actually. The couch is as uncomfortable as it looks, and she spent most of the night too worried to sleep, eventually giving up entirely. If anything, it's a relief to see that Lorna has been more lucky.

"Guess we'd better wake sleepin' beauty," Franny chuckles, and when Nicky finally forces herself to look at her, she can see a warm fondness in her that hasn't been there before.

They wake Lorna and she goes to her room to clean up before breakfast, whilst Nicky takes Maria downstairs, and Franny goes to get the boys ready for school. The routine comes far too easily, but Nicky doesn't miss the sadness in Lorna's eyes as she walks away from Maria. The kid's had a good sleep and is wide awake and bouncy as ever as Nicky takes her down to get started on breakfast, depositing her in her high chair, much to Maria's vocal disapproval. She's just starting to mush up some fruit for the kid's breakfast when Lorna appears.

"Oh, hey, let me just finish up with this and I'll fix you some toast. I ain't much good in the kitchen, but I can almost always do toast okay," she grins, deflates a little when Lorna just stares back at her.

"I'll get some cereal," she eventually says, stiffly, and she heads over to a cupboard, opens it to find nothing but jars and cans. Another cupboard, and it's nothing but biscuits.

"It's in the top-"

"I can do it myself!" Lorna snaps, and Nicky tightens her jaw, picks up the bowl of banana and sets it down in front of Maria.

"I was just trying to help," she mutters, sitting down across from the high chair, and picking up Maria's spoon. The toddler's had her breakfast for less than a minute and it's already smeared across the tray of her chair.

"Well, don't, okay? This is my house, not yours. You've already taken my daughter from me, at least let me try to function like a normal person for five minutes and make my own food."

Nicky stares at her, and Maria babbles, but they both ignore her. Tears are gathering in Lorna's dark eyes as she shakily grabs a packet of cereal, and, Nicky's eyes not leaving her for a second, reaches into the dish washer for a bowl. Her hands are trembling so much that flakes are falling to the tiled floor, and when she bends to pick them up, she knocks the bowl off the edge. It clatters on the floor and smashes into pieces, and the shock of it even makes Maria fall silent.

"I haven't taken her from you," Nicky says hoarsely, around the lump that's formed in her throat.

"Icky look at 'nana!" Maria chimes in, shoving a banana-smothered hand in her face, and Nicky silently curses her for choosing the worst possible moment to interrupt.

"Yeah, not now, kid," she whispers, turning her back on her to re-engage with Lorna. But Lorna's looking away, tears dribbling from her chin, and Nicky doesn't know what to say to fix things anymore.

* * *

She knows it isn't Nicky's fault, but she's never been the best at controlling her temper, or the things she says but doesn't mean. After breakfast, she fully expects Nicky to leave and never speak to her again, so when she hears the faint tapping on her door, long after Franny's gone to work, she thinks she must be imagining it. She's been curled up on her bed, face pressed into her pillow, tears streaming her cheeks, for at least an hour if not longer, and she doesn't have the energy to get up, so she croaks a 'yes?' half-expecting no reply.

The door opens, and she looks up to find Nicky awkwardly standing there. She's changed out of the clothes she slept in (does she actually leave clothes here? Has she just moved in and they're not telling her?) and is wearing a fresh t-shirt, and a short black skirt. Lorna realises she's never seen her wear a skirt before, thinks it's odd, had never imagined Nicky to be the kind who even owned skirts. It suits her though, accentuates her long skinny legs, which are bare, a bruise on one of her knees that Lorna can't draw her eyes away from.

"Wanna go for a walk?" she says, and of all the things Lorna was expecting to hear, she'd never anticipated that, puts her immediate nodding response down to the surprise, "cool. Maria's with her grand-pops. I'll see you in a bit."

She closes the door behind her and Lorna slowly drags herself out of bed, looks at herself in the mirror for the first time since getting out, and finds that she can't bear what she sees there.

* * *

It's a good half an hour before Lorna descends the stairs and they leave the house. Nicky finds herself pacing back and forth, running her fingers through her hair until it's even messier than it was when she woke up. She can tell Joe's getting agitated with her. He doesn't like being left on baby watch as it is, and her constant plodding back and forth isn't helping, especially since Maria keeps trying to escape him to join her.

When Lorna finally appears, she's wearing a cream lacy crop top with a high waisted matching skirt that leaves only the slightest band of skin across her middle exposed. Her hair's perfectly curled, and her face is fully made up, and Nicky thinks she looks more like she's going out on a date than a walk around the block. Then again, this has always been Lorna's way of dealing with things; she knows that. If nothing else, she can control how she looks, how she dresses, how her hair is. She's been searching for something to cling on to to keep her grounded, and she's found it. Any other time, Nicky would be aching to peel those clothes off of her. It's been so long since she really even _touched_ her let alone anything else, but there's so many more important things for her to worry about that she pushes any feelings of lust to the back of her mind.

"Ready to go?" she asks, and Lorna nods, forces a smile.

They walk in silence for a while. Lorna's neighbourhood ain't exactly the kind of place for going for a walk, and there's constant noises from the other houses, from people leaning out of windows, from kids playing in the street. But, eventually, it gets quieter, and they find themselves stopping at a bench overlooking a kid's play park. Nicky slips a cigarette out of the packet in her blazer pocket, but doesn't light it, and after a moment slides it back in.

"I'm sorry for what I said this mornin'," Lorna says faintly, dragging her eyes away from the children playing below them, and meeting Nicky's gaze, "I know you ain't purposely taking her from me. I just... all my life I've dreamt of having someone who loves me. That was my one purpose, y'know? Find a husband, have kids, settle down. I completely fucked that up, Nick."

Nicky swallows, furrows her eyebrows. She wants to hold Lorna like she used to when they were in Litchfield, brush her tears away, make her feel safe. But everything's changed now, and she's not sure she'd be welcome.

"Maria's that family. That person who loves me no matter what. That's what she was supposed to be but... she doesn't love me. I'm not a mom to her. I'm a stranger, someone who she doesn't recognise, or like. Someone who smells funny and talks funny. She screams whenever I go near her."

"That isn't true," Nicky tells her, finally giving in and resting a hand gently on top of Lorna's, "she don't know you yet. But when she does, she'll love you. You're her ma. She just has to get used to you."

Lorna's mouth twists into a side smile, "no. She'll get to know me and she'll love me even less. I'm not cut out for this. I mess everything up. I'll mess her up."

"Hey, no, you won't," she links their fingers together, squeezes tight, "you think I know anythin' about raising a kid? I've had to learn it day by day. You'll get there. You have more maternal instincts than I've ever had. And you want her. You want to love her, and look after her, and be a mom, and that's more than some kids ever get."


End file.
